Like Fingerprints On Glass
by xX you're my good thing Xx
Summary: "The boy's hair and eyes were stained with silver and he moved delicately, like the trail of fingerprints on glass. Patricia's breath caught and she wondered briefly if he knew he was beautiful." Jem/OC. [*UNDER CONSTRUCTION*]
1. The Morgenstern

_Hello all, and welcome back to LLC! I am aware that it's been a while - the next update will probably be months away - but I feel bad, and so would like to give you this little treat. I hope you enjoy. _

_Welcome to any and all new readers, and welcome back to any of the old. Please be aware that chapters 2-17 do not line up with this timeline. _

_-ivy matilda_

* * *

As it turned out, sobbing in a carriage is incredibly awkward.

Patricia Lisanne Morgenstern learned this on the way from Germany to the London Institute. It wasn't raining, and the girl in question was an ugly crier, so the situation was not only painful but incredibly embarrassing. The consolation was the fact that she wasn't the driver of this melancholy vehicle, as Patricia had stained the fine seats of the carriage with her tears.

Her brother would probably have to pay a fine for that.

Patricia sniffled in a way that would have seemed pitiful and delicate if she didn't look so horrendous, and bitterly, she thought, _Good._

Patricia's brother wasn't exactly her favourite person at this point in time.

Really, there wasn't much to do on this carriage ride except cry and feel sorry for herself. Patricia had already done a great deal of that, and as previously established, it was awkward. She supposed that she should progress to the stage in which she cursed and threw things, although that would make life a great deal harder for the driver. It wasn't as though the poor man hadn't been through enough, was it? Also, there wasn't anything to throw, which presented another complication.

Patricia leaned back against the leather and sighed heavily.

The carriage came to a sudden halt, tossing Patricia out of her nearly calm state. She cursed as she tumbled forwards, landing in an uncomfortable position with her face smushed against the driver seat. Patricia did a great deal more cursing as she hauled herself upwards and smoothed out her skirts, which probably wasn't very ladylike. She had a headache now, though, and that really didn't help her tearstained mess off a situation.

The driver came around the side of the carriage and opened Patricia's door with a pleasant smile on his face. "Your destination, Miss."

Patricia tried for her own smile, which turned out like a grimace. Lovely. "Right. Thank you," she said shakily, trying to remember her manners. There was a slight lilt to her English, hardly noticeable, but it was there all the same. She straightened, setting her chin in a haughty manner, and tried with some success to regain her dignity. "Do you have any paper and a writing utensil?"

The driver looked a bit confused, but nodded. "Yes, Miss," he replied shortly, handing Patricia her requested supplies. "I'll take your luggage from the back. Do you require assistance to carry your belongings inside?"

Patricia gave a sweet smile. "No, thank you," she said, accepting the paper and pen. "I will be fine on my own." Sitting down, Patricia scrawled a note in German, her handwriting crude and sloppy. Mrs. Morgenstern would murder Patricia if the woman ever saw the state of her script. There was no way for that to happen now, though, right?

Patricia muttered a few choice words as she scribbled and cursed her sense of humour.

_Dearest Joshua, _the note translated to, _I would like to make a note on your choice of driver. His skills were exemplary, and not once did he have any aversion to my unsavoury mood or heartbroken sobbing. I would pay him extra. _

_Sincerely, your darling sister, _

_Patricia Lisanne Morgenstern._

Patricia signed the note with a flourish and folded it neatly. It was rude, she knew, and bitter, but she thought it was nowhere near an adequate punishment. Banishment didn't exactly constitute to a few extra Euros out of the great Morgenstern inheritance, did it?

The driver returned with her luggage, and Patricia accepted the cases gratefully. "My thanks again," she said with false cheer, pressing the paper into his hands. "Give this to my brother upon your return."

"Yes, Miss." The man climbed back into the carriage, spurred on the horses, and was gone. Patricia sighed.

"Welcome to London," she mumbled to herself, dragging her bags up to the entrance of the Institute and turning the handle. No one greeted her.

Joy.

It was possible the resident Shadowhunters were away, or simply occupied. Sarcastically, Patricia thought of how lovely it was to be welcomed so kindly to this place. The spurt of motivation that had accompanied her entrance to the Institute fled, and Patricia found herself completely alone under the decorated ceiling and protective walls.

She dropped her bags, slumped down against the door, and curled tightly into a ball as she began again to cry.

-o-O-o-

"Who the hell are you, and why are you crying?" The voice came from somewhere above her, and Patricia started in surprise. It was almost a delayed reaction when she realised there was a sword pointed at her throat.

"I'm not crying," she snapped defensively as she wiped tears from her eyes. She tried to edge backwards, although as she was already pressed against the wall, all Patricia could do was bump her head.

The person who the voice belonged to was a boy with tousled black hair and bright blue eyes, and he looked rather amused. "Yes, you are. You sound like a dying elephant."

"I do not!" Patricia replied hotly, pulling herself up to her full height and practically craning her neck to meet the boy's eyes. "I don't know who you think you are, but you clearly have no idea how to treat a lady."

The irritating stranger snorted. "And you're rather lacking in the feminine department, despite your dress."

Patricia glanced down at her clothing and frowned. "What's wrong with my dress?" she asked self-consciously, trying to smooth wrinkles out of her skirt.

"Among other things, it's too short on you, and I can see that you're wearing fighting gear underneath it," the boy pointed out with a smirk.

"Well, excuse me," Patricia snapped, "but next time I'm getting evicted, I'll make sure to consult a bloody tailor!" She glared at the sword, whose point was still inches from her neck. "Will you stop trying to kill me now?"

The boy frowned, as though just remembering the weapon in the first place, and glanced up in thought. "Oh. Right. Your name first," he demanded, back to business.

"Patricia Lisanne Morgenstern," Patricia spat, trying to reach for her own dagger, which was hidden in the folds of her petticoat. "You were, in fact, expecting me."

The sword retreated; Patricia sighed in relief. "We were," the boy drawled. "You don't look like a Morgenstern."

Patricia rolled her eyes, somehow managing to glare simultaneously. "Is this because I'm not blonde?" she asked drily, already knowing the answer. "My mum is – was – a Silverglass, I got the hair."

"Good thing you're a Morgenstern, then. Patricia Lisanne Silverglass sounds even worse," the boy remarked offhandedly.

Patricia bristled. "My name sounds fine!" she protested sharply, glaring at the boy. "The Silverglass branch or my family is a lovely one, and with honour. I won't have you insulting them."

"Can we do something about your name?" the boy asked with a frown. "You can't expect us to call you Patricia all the time, can you?"

"Of course I can! That's my name," she spat, liking him less and less with each passing second.

"People actually call you 'Patricia?'"

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" She glared at the boy. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Herondale," the boy said cheerfully, sheathing his sword. "William Herondale. I'd say it's good to meet you, but it's actually not, so I won't."

"Likewise," Patricia replied, regarding Herondale with an appropriate degree of wariness. "Is there an authority figure to report to?"

"Nope!" Herondale beamed. "Just me. Really, it's like I'm the Head of the Institute."

Patricia glared disapprovingly. "Tell the truth. You ought to have a real Head, and I need to talk to them. And don't tell me that it's a turtle or something; I want a straight answer!"

"Fine." Herondale scrunched up his face for a moment. "I really don't think I like you all that much, Morgenstern."

Patricia snorted in a very unladylike manner. "The feeling is entirely mutual, Herondale. Head of the Institute. Now."

"Say please." Patricia fixed Herondale with a deadpan glare that clearly asked, _'Are you kidding me?_' Herondale grinned. "I mean it."

"No."

Herondale raised a brow. "I'll take you to Charlotte if you do."

Patricia pounced on the piece of information. "Charlotte!" she cried triumphantly. "I'll find her myself, then."

"You don't know where her office is," Herondale pointed out, that infuriating grin still on his face. Patricia decided that she'd love to slap it off.

"I could yell," she shot back, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yes, and that would make a lovely first impression," Herondale replied smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sure Charlotte would be thrilled. She hates yelling indoors."

Patricia sighed, then swallowed hard, glancing to her left and right to make sure no one was around. "May I see the Head of the Institute… please?"

Herondale grinned. "Of course, my lady Morgenstern," he drawled, then tilted back his head and hollered, "CHAAARLOTTE! IT'S HERE!"

"You _just_ said not to yell!" Patricia hissed, glaring at Herondale with renewed vigour.

"No, I said that _you_ shouldn't yell," he corrected. "And I tend not to listen to anyone, including myself. It makes for too much sanity in the room, and that gets boring."

"You said that Charlotte hates yelling," Patricia persisted stubbornly.

"I did."

"You called me an 'it!'"

"Yep."

She tossed up her hands. "I give up on you."

"You've just met me."

"Did I stutter?"

Will grinned, about to say something, when the quick thud of footfalls on a stairwell greeted the ears of the two teens. "William Herondale," a woman was saying, rather angrily, _"how_ many times do I have to tell you –" The woman, who could only be Charlotte, paused when she saw Patricia. "You must be Miss Morgenstern."

Patricia shifted, nodding, and Herondale could see a visible shift in her demeanour. "Yes, ma'am," she said politely, a sharp contrast to the snarky girl who had been bickering with him moments before.

Charlotte didn't seem to notice. "I'm Charlotte Branwell," she said kindly, holding out a hand. Patricia shook it lightly. "Call me Charlotte, please."

"Yes, of course," Patricia replied with a smile that seemed forced. "And you, of course, already know of me."

"Yes." Charlotte gave a sincere smile of apology. "I am sorry for your recent losses."

Patricia's expression twisted into an ugly sneer for a moment, so quickly that Herondale almost missed it. "Thank you," she said coldly. "It's why I'm here, isn't it?"

Charlotte's expression turned soft and regretful, and she sent a glance to Herondale, who responded with a one-shoulder shrug. "Your quarters are upstairs, Miss Morgenstern –"

"Patricia." The forced smile reserved only for adults surfaced again. "Call me Patricia."

"Of course." Charlotte nodded amicably, and Herondale rolled his eyes. "Will, would you mind showing our new resident to her room?"

"Yes, I would," Herondale replied with his trademark smirk. Charlotte sent him an admonishing glance, and he relented. "Fine! Fine, I'll show her. Raziel knows she's got a lot of stuff to carry."

Patricia rolled her eyes. "I can take it; it'll be fine."

"Yes, and I will watch you struggle as you take it up the stairs," Herondale replied evenly, an impish grin on his features.

"I hate you, Herondale," Patricia said with no malice, shaking her head.

"Likewise, Morgenstern," he replied confidently. Then, to Charlotte, "I'm going out tonight, if you care."

"Of course I care, Will," Charlotte responded, worry surfacing in her eyes. "Now, show Patricia to her rooms and I'll think about giving you permission."

"Char-_lotte,"_ Herondale complained, groaning, "you're not my mum." Patricia couldn't tell if he was joking or not, and it unsettled her slightly. Still, her curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't help but perk up at the idea of going out.

"Where to?" Patricia asked with interest, and Herondale glanced over at her as though seeing her for the first time.

"Nowhere you'd want to go," he scoffed finally, regaining his cocky attitude and too-confident smirk at the same time.

"Try me." She jutted out her chin, and Herondale's response was just to laugh. Patricia bristled, her eyes turning hard. "What?"

"Will, don't mock her," Charlotte cut in reprovingly, though her words crumbled to dust in the electric tension of the main hall.

Herondale gave Patricia a thorough once over. "How old are you, anyway?" he asked haughtily, looking down at her. He was about a head and a half taller than Patricia, which helped the effect greatly.

"Sixteen," she replied with equal arrogance, her dark Morgenstern eyes locked on his blue ones. Herondale swore in response, and a smirk spread across Patricia's face. "What now?"

"_I'm_ sixteen," he said bitterly, taking solace in the fact that Patricia was so much shorter than him. "Damn. I thought you were fifteen, at most."

"Excuse you –!"

"I'm just saying!"

"I'm taller than Charlotte!"

At this, the two of them looked back at Charlotte, who seemed a bit amused at the exchange. "You were showing Patricia to her room, Will," she remarked, unfazed.

"Yes, I'm on my way," Herondale snapped, "Let's go." He turned, then hesitated. "Where's Jem?"

"Still in bed, Will, you know that," Charlotte responded, an edge to her voice. "I'll tell you when he's up."

"Who's Jem?"

"Long story."

"Right." The pair turned to leave, Herondale directing Patricia to the stairwell Charlotte had come down. "Anyway, you're going to have to lose the dress. It's ridiculous."

"Shut up, Herondale."

"Nope."

"I dislike you."

He grinned. "Likewise."


	2. The Girl on the Dinner Table

**Hi there!**

**So, I had a ton of fun writing the Wissa friendship in this chapter. Gosh, they are so hilarious. I expect you to laugh! **

**There is no Jissa in this chapter. Sorry! But I think there might be a **_**moment **_**in the next one.**

**Also: if you're reading this and thinking "Ohmygosh you're such a copycat: you stole Will's curse and put it on Lissa that's really mundane and not creative at all," you're wrong. It took me **_**such **_**a long time to think of a suitable curse for Lissa, and while it is similar to Will's, it is going to be one of the things that bonds them AS FRIENDS and also provide for some very touching, feels filled scenes (if you want to know where I got the inspiration for Lissa's curse from, it was actually a PJO fanfic called "I am SO not in love with you!")**

**Don't forget to review!**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1874_

_Perspective: Lissa M._

"Miss Lissiane?" Charlotte called. "It is nearly seven o'clock, and I would like to inform you that we will be having dinner in fifteen minutes."

I smiled as I replied, "Of course I will come. I cannot wait for my first dinner at the Institute." I'd been in the room Charlotte had shown me to since the incident with Jem and Will, hoping to avoid any more drama. "And please, call me Lissa."

"Of course," Charlotte said, and I could hear her footfalls on the stairs. The heat of Will's glare on my door immediately returned, and I rolled my eyes. Then again, he probably had felt my glare on his door during the last few hours.

I figured Jem would be at dinner, since the rolling waves of pain had stopped soon after I'd given him the _yin fen. _Even Will had bothered to bark out a thank you.

A knock on my door alerted me that the Institute's servant – Sophie, was that her name? – was coming.

"Come in!" I greeted her, and the doorknob turned. My first impression of Sophie was that she was beautiful. She had big hazel eyes, full lips, and dark, almost auburn hair. She looked about fifteen, two years older than me. When she turned the other side of her face towards me, the large, diagonal scar that ripped open her face swallowed up my vision. I wanted to look away, and felt bad that I was embarrassing her, but couldn't help myself.

"You're… quite shameless," Sophie said quietly.

"I am," I replied. "I apologize for staring, but I would prefer to look at it in full rather than steal glimpses for the next six months."

"I would prefer that as well," Sophie replied, turning her face a little more so that I could see the scar in full.

"It has a story," I said softly, and Sophie tensed. "Oh, I'm so sorry," I said hurriedly. "It is most obviously a touchy subject. How rude of me to bring it up, Miss…"

"Just Sophie," she replied with a smile. "Would you like me to help you dress, Miss Morgenstern?"

"Lissa," I corrected her. "I would like there to be no element of formality in our friendship, Sophie."

"Oh?" the other girl said teasingly. "How do you know we will be friends?"

"Why, you and Charlotte are the only sensible females in this Institute," I said readily, "And you are kindhearted, and around my age, and I believe I like you."

"You are _quite _shameless, Lissa," Sophie said with a laugh. "Now, am I to help you with your dress or not?"

* * *

I entered the dining room in the blue dress Sophie and I picked out. I recognized Jem, Will, and Charlotte, but there was a red-haired man and a beautiful girl who I had not seen before. I took a seat beside Jem, thinking that if Sophie could not dine with us, at least I would be able to speak with the only other person in this Institute I could call a friend.

"Why are you sitting over there?" asked the beautiful girl rudely from the other side of the table, with a small flip of her golden hair.

"Because I like him better than I like you," I replied. She turned her eyes away for a moment, but soon decided to glare at me instead. I sighed. It seemed _everyone _here was going to hate me.

_But that's exactly what you want, _I reminded myself sternly. A different part of my brain protested, _but I don't want them to _hate _me! _

I shook my head to clear it. I couldn't have any _close _friends, but the other wards of the Institute didn't have to hate me. But I didn't like the girl, anyway.

"That's the truth of it, Jessie," Will said with a smirk at the other girl.

"Oh, shut it, Will." I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't like you much either." Next to me, Jem snorted with laughter.

"Picky, picky," Will drawled. "I _told _everyone that we'd have to protect the Institute from the Morgenstern, but did they listen? No. And now look where we are."

"_Will!" _Jem reprimanded sharply.

"Jem, I've already told you: I'm just stating the facts. She, obviously, doesn't like me, so I won't even bother to hide that _I _don't like her." I studied Will for a moment.

"I believe we might be able to have a mutual agreement in life here," I mused.

"I don't."

"You're hilarious," Jem said, watching the exchange as if it was a sporting event.

"We're not," Will and I said in unison.

"Oh, by the Angel," Jessie said with an eye roll. "And I thought one Will was bad enough."

"_Why _does everyone think I'm like Will?" I asked exasperatedly. "We're nothing alike!"

"We're not," Will agreed.

"I'm female, for one thing."

"And that's where the differences end," Jem said, sharing a rare smile with Jessamine.

"They don't!" I protested. "I, for one, enjoy sarcasm _far _more than Will."

"You did _not _just go there," Will threatened.

"I did," I said bravely.

Will muttered something in – was that Welsh?

"See," I pointed out, "Will is far more prone to murmuring in an unintelligible language than I. Isn't that one of the signs of insanity?" Jem laughed again, and I had to smile. Jem was, by far, the nicest person here, and I liked making him happy.

"We _do _have the biannual 'Everyone-Thinks-Will-Is-A-Lunatic' meeting," Jem said in agreement.

"I am _not _insane!" Will protested, then amended himself: "Well, maybe a little."

"And are you insane, Miss Lissiane?" Jem asked me.

"Lissa, please," I corrected him. "And I should think not."

"Then you must call me James, or Jem," he replied with a smile.

"Wonderful!" Will said mockingly. "Now we can all be best friends! But don't blame me when she stabs you all in the back when you're sleeping. I've always said she was dangerous."

"_Will," _I said plaintively, "Why did you tell everyone my plans? I thought you were going to keep them a secret."

"She's as mad as she is ugly," Will remarked.

"You're quite nasty," I said. Will smirked at me. "I won't even ask you if you know it, because I know that you do, and full well. I'm not saying this to point something out to you, but to remind everyone here who they're stuck in quarters with."

"I could say the same to you, Lis," Will said, and it caught me off guard for a minute. My brother Joshua had nicknamed me "Lis," and it was odd, yet somehow familiar, to hear it coming out of Will's mouth.

"You could," I agreed diplomatically. "But I know how nasty I am, and how mad." And with that I pushed my plate out of the way and climbed atop the table. Even the absent-minded red-haired man looked up.

"Charlotte, dear," he said. "I believe there's a girl on our dinner table."

"There most certainly is," I declared.

"Maybe she's a hallucination," the man said curiously. "But most hallucinations don't talk…"

"Henry, she's the Institute's new ward," Charlotte hissed at him. "Lissa, please get off the table." Everyone else was staring at me. Jem's shoulders were shaking in silent laughter, and I smiled. Will's head was cocked to one side, probably wondering if I really was mad. My smile widened.

"Oh, Will, I'm sorry," I simpered. "My powers of feminine charm are simply too much for the weak minded." Will started and opened his mouth to say something. "And Charlotte? Of course I'll get off the table." I jumped back onto my seat and smoothed down my dress.

Jem turned his head towards me and whispered, "I'm sure that's the first time in three years that I've seen Will speechless."

"And the last time was?" I whispered in return.

"Oh, when I arrived and showed how much better I was than him at knife throwing," Jem said with a private smile. I returned it.

I looked up to see everyone still staring at me.

"What?" I crinkled my eyebrows. "Is there something wrong with my dress?"

* * *

"How did you know of Jem's ailment this afternoon?" Charlotte asked as we neared the end of our meal. I tensed; I'd known this was coming, but wasn't prepared to answer it.

"I… I felt something off in the Institute." I shifted my weight in hopes that this was a believable answer. Sadly, Charlotte looked even more intrigued.

"Was there a demon?" Henry asked, looking up from whatever he was fiddling with. "I've been working on a Sensor, see, and if you had a working model…"

"Hush, Henry," Charlotte said gently. "How could you feel it?" I panicked, and thought fast.

"I…" Charlotte leaned forward in her chair. "The Silent Brothers applied an Awareness rune on my tenth birthday."

"Oh?" Charlotte asked curiously. "And why was that?"

"My… parents wanted it," I lied. "I'm really not sure why, but it helps me sense when things are… not right."

"How does this work?" Henry asked, and for once, Charlotte didn't stop him.

"Um, well…" I hesitated. I was out of lies, and couldn't make one up on the spot.

"Interrogating the Morgenstern?" Will's familiar drawl greeted us. "That's a great idea: see if the girl is a spy for evil Downworlders and a traitor to the Clave. You know, because this stranger is going to tell you her plans for world domination." Will smirked at me, and I had to grin back. Then I cursed myself: smirking with Will only confirmed everyone's suspicions that we were the other's counterpart.

"Of course not," Charlotte said angrily, glaring at Will. "What is your purpose here, Will?"

"We're going down to the training room." Will gestured down the hall where, I supposed, the training room must be. But at that moment, the words sounded more like "We're rescuing you from torture and bringing you to meet Raziel in Heaven." "Does she want to come?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, standing up. _"She _most certainly does want to escape – I mean, go train!"

Will gave me an odd look, but it was veiled with understanding. I wondered what on Earth _that _could come from. No one could understand my curse, especially not this boy who, I had to admit, _did _act a lot like me.

"Well, let's go then," Will said and sprinted down the hall, leaving me to go find wherever the training room was. Nevermind understanding: this boy was Satan. _I wonder if Jem will be there, _I thought, and was somehow cheered.

"Thanks, Charlotte," I said, and ran after Will.

* * *

**Yay, chapter two!**

**Thanks so much to: Cat Lunanoff and The Written Illusion for reviewing! You all should too (as a holiday present to me)!**

** This is probably going to be the last update of the year, so:**

**Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Kwanzaa, and any other holiday I missed! **

**Happy New Year!**

**Review!**

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	3. Nightmares

**Okay, this is a lot shorter than the two chapters before it. But I like it. **

**There's going to be a little talk about reviews in the lower A/N, so be ready.**

**But here's the chapter!**

* * *

"Caroline, when are Mum and Father coming home?" I asked, swinging my feet on the bed.

"They should be here any minute," Caroline replied. "I've arranged for a private carriage to pick them up tonight."

_Rap! Rap! _My father's customary knock on the front door sounds the moment Caroline finishes speaking.

"Oh, can I go see them, please?" I begged. "They've been gone for an entire week!"

"Oh, alright," Caroline relented. "But your parents will be very tired, and you must give them their rest."

"I will, Caroline, of course I will!" I said as I jumped off the bed and ran down the stairs. The doors opened as I arrived, and my parents walked in, each carrying a trunk that contained their traveling clothes.

"Mother! Father!" I said, hugging each one in turn.

"Lissa," my mother said warmly.

"Mother, Father, it is good to see you again," my brother said stiffly, arriving with Caroline. She must've alerted him to our parents' arrival.

"Oh, Josh," Mother said, making her way over to him to embrace him.

"How was your trip?" I asked my father.

"It was alright," he replied in his rich, deep voice. "It took far too long for a single demon, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes!" I said, then frowned. "Father, I – someone told me you were dead! You and Mother both!"

"Of course not!" Father said. "You must've been imagining things. It takes more than one silly demon to defeat _us, _even if it was a Greater Demon!"

Mother had suddenly reappeared, and was standing next to Father. I frowned. I had not seen her come over to us again; I thought she was still speaking with Josh.

"But there _is _one thing we could've done," she said with a motherly smile. Something seemed very, very wrong here. "We could've _become _the demon." And with that, she and Father began to change. Their eyes turned red, and their hands elongated into talons. Their skin turned ashen gray, as if someone had poured a bucket of paint over their heads. My parents grew taller, and their hair wilder, and began to advance on me.

"And that is exactly what we did," the demon that had once been my mother hissed, and I saw that her tongue was long, red, and forked like an enormous snake's. Father – could I even call him that anymore? – stretched out his claws and attacked, and Mother followed him. They jumped on top of me, shredding my skin, and I screamed like I never had before.

"_Caroline! _Caroline! Help me!"

My long time ladies maid, servant, and friend stood there helplessly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she said softly as the demons that had once been my parents spilled my blood on our home. "Good-bye, Miss Morgenstern." Caroline disappeared, and I screamed and screamed and screamed until the world went dark.

I woke up screaming, and it took me a while to realize I was in the Institute, with the fireplace merrily roaring. But it looked like the angry red eyes of the demons and I cowered, and screamed, my throat hoarse.

The door burst open.

"No!" I cried at the figure who was coming into my room. "I – I won't let you! I've had enough!"

"Lissa?" It was Jem. I broke down, all my defenses crumbling, and sobbed into the coverlet on my bed.

"Jem," I breathed. "Oh, by the Angel, Jem." I murmured his name over and over again, losing myself in the sound of it, _Jem, Jem, Jem, _knowing that this was real, this is real, this is not the dream, this is not the dream.

"Lissa." Jem sounded concerned. "Are you alright?" He stepped forward and hesitantly made his way over to the bed.

"No," I said shakily. "I am not alright."

"I'm so sorry," Jem murmured, and while I'd hated hearing those words come from anyone else's mouth, they seemed to be more sincere when he said it. "It was your parents you were dreaming of, was it not?"

"How – how did you know?" I asked, shocked into telling the truth.

"I have had similar dreams," Jem said, sitting down next to me. "I came to the Institute for the same reasons you did: my parents were murdered by a demon, and I had nowhere else to go."

"But I did!" I cried. "I have a brother, and my parents left him our home, and he threw me out! What have I done to deserve this cruelty?" Jem was silent, and I knew that he had had no such dilemma.

"I do not know," Jem said softly. His silver hair glowed in the firelight, and I stared at it for a moment, finding myself entranced by its beautiful, mysterious depths. Jem put his arm around me for comfort and I shivered, and as the heat rose to my cheeks I told myself it was merely because of the fire, but when Jem and I had stretched the serene silence to its limit, I couldn't help but ask, "Could you – could you, um, not leave?"

"Of course, Lissa," Jem said, and I didn't think that I'd ever heard anyone say my name like that: crooning the short _i, _accenting the double _s. _He made his way over to an overstuffed armchair next to the fire, and I fell asleep again, watching the light catch on his silver hair and drowning in the pools of his eyes.

The dreams came every day for the next month, and whenever I would wake up screaming, Jem would be there, and he would stay there for me, a silver light in the darkness.

"I dreamed of you tonight," I said.

"Did you?" Jem sounded pleasantly surprised.

"You –" I tried not to make it sound childish. "You were there – to protect me – when my parents turned into demons again." I ducked my head so Jem couldn't see my blush.

"I would," he said.

"Pardon?"

"I said, I would," he repeated. "If someone you loved turned into a demon, I would protect you from them."

I tried to act as if Jem hadn't made my heart swell until it felt like it was going to burst.

"Thank you," I whispered, for I had no better words. Jem shook his head.

"_Huānyíng nín, wǒ bù xūyào gǎnxiè. Wǒ xiǎng bāng nǐ," _he said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means, 'you are welcome, and I require no thanks. I wish to help you,'" Jem replied. "It is Chinese."

"It is beautiful," I said. Jem smiled, and ducked his head.

"If you do not object, I have a – a gift of sorts for you," Jem said.

"Of course I do not object!" I cried. "Thank you, Jem. You have been far kinder than I ever deserved." _Far kinder than you should let him be, _a voice in my head pointed out. _You should push him away. _But I didn't want to.

Jem had pulled out a small case, and from it withdrew a beautiful violin. He placed it under his chin and said, "This is a – a lullaby, of sorts. It is a very old Chinese song." He then placed the bow to the strings, and played.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. Jem's long, thin fingers moved with the violin, became one with it. The song soared, and I felt myself soar with it. The small room disappeared, and suddenly I was part of the starry night, flying with the rest of the sky over the sleeping world. The music was gentle, coaxing, and yet not condescending, it awakened a part of me that both wanted to dance and to lay down and sleep. When it was over, reality came rushing back in, but somehow the monsters were at bay, because of the music.

"James," I breathed. "That – that was beautiful." He smiled.

"So you liked it, then?" he asked.

"I loved it," I replied. "Thank you."

"It is late," he said. "Will I see you in the morning?" Jem sat down on the bed and put one arm around me, the way he always did, and it still made me blush like a child.

"Of course," I said.

"_Shuì dé hǎo," _Jem said.

"Is that Chinese as well?" I asked.

"Yes," Jem replied.

"What does it mean?"

"It means, 'sleep well,'" Jem said from the doorway.

"_Shuì dé hǎo,_ Jem Carstairs."

* * *

**This gave me SO MANY FEELS. Oh. MY. GODS.**

**Anyway: reviews! So I got three and I feel very fortunate, but I also feel bad because I've gotten 100 views on this (THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!) but three reviews. What kind of a ratio is that? And if you don't have a account, here's why all authors ask for reviews:  
They make you feel great! Like someone actually wants to read what you've written! And when 70+ people read your fanfic but 2 people review it, it makes you wonder if you're actually a good author at all.**

**So here's a deal: _YOU, _as the reader of this fanfic, will review once every 10 chapters. Starting with whatever chapter you want, one, two, this one, or even the next one. But after I've posted 10 more chapters, review again. Then you have lots of time to go review other, better, fanfics, but I still get my happiness from you typing one or two words and clicking a button.**

**Does that sound fair?**

**I hope so.**

**Thank you so much for being the BEST readers ever and giving me 100 views!**

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**

**PS: To those of you who did review, I'm very grateful! I'm not trying to sound all spoiled and needy, and I'm sorry if I came across that way! I do want more reviews but I'm very happy and grateful for what you gave me :)**


	4. Shadowhunters Don't Have Christmas

**Hi there!**

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but this is the longest chapter yet (4k+ words!) and lots of feels! Yay! **

**Also, I forgot to mention last time what's in it for you if you review:  
First off, I love reading the fanfictions that my readers wrote, so if you review, I'll make sure to check out your profile, read any stories that are written for fandoms that I'm in, and follow you as an author.  
If there's any specific fanfic you want me to read, include the title in your review.  
Thanks for reading and giving me 200+ views! (!) **

**Oh, and in case you don't usually read the stuff in italics, please do, because it's pretty important (an entire year has passed and it switches POVs)**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1875_

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern _

_Please Note: An entire year has passed since Lissa has arrived at the Institute._

"We will be having a holiday gift exchange in celebration of the New Year," Charlotte announced at dinner.

"Charlotte, we're Shadowhunters," Will said with an eye roll.

"We don't have Christmas," I added.

"Or Hanukkah," said Will.

"Or Kwanzaa."

"Or –"

"Will, Lissa!" Charlotte burst out, exasperated. "I _know _that, as Nephilim, we do not tend to celebrate mundane holidays. But I believe it would be nice to –"

"Go kill some demons on Christmas?" Will interrupted.

"It _is _Christmas," I whispered.

Will blinked. "Is it?"

"Yes, Will," Charlotte continued. "Each of you should bring a present for at least one other member of the Institute."

"Well, now we know that Will won't be getting anything," I said diplomatically. "And neither will Jessie…" I surveyed the room. "So all the presents will go to Charlotte and Henry and Jem." _Jem. _I wouldn't admit that he was the first person I had thought of when Charlotte had announced gift-giving.

"What about you?" Jem asked from the next seat at the dinner table.

I gave him a wry smile and replied, "I'm no nicer than Will. No presents for me."

"I could argue that," Jem said.

"Hey!" Will cut in. "You're my _parabatai. _You're supposed to agree with me and support me on, well, pretty much anything."

"It still doesn't change that Lissa's nicer," Jem said. My mind was immediately sent reeling as Jem combined the words _Lissa _and _nice _in the same sentence. _It doesn't mean he cares for you, _a voice in my brain protested. _Besides, you want to stay as useful as possible and that means keeping your distance. _

"Go!" Charlotte had finished her instructions. "Be back by 9 o'clock, try not to –"

"Bye Charlotte!" Will stood up and slung his coat over one shoulder. The rest of us followed suit, except, of course, for Henry, who was absently fiddling with something in his hands. I ran after Will and Jem, Jessie behind us, complaining all the way.

* * *

I'd finally, finally, _finally _lost them. Finally. Will and Jem were as intent on staying with me as a Shax demon on its prey. I didn't know what they were going to do when they realized I was gone, and I felt sort of bad about leaving Jem behind with Will and Jessie – I didn't feel bad about leaving Will alone, nor Jessie – but what had to be done had to be done. I wove my way through the streets, trying to find my way back to a main road. That shouldn't be hard – this _is _London, after all. As I walked through the side streets, I realized that this was the first time I'd had to myself since I came to the Institute. My days had been filled with training with Will and Jem and Jessie, dinner with Henry, Charlotte, and the other wards of the Institute, and Sophie was with me in the in-between hours. While I loved Sophie, and was correct to believe that she was a good choice for a friend, I was always accompanied by someone. In the depths of the night, I'd often wake up – either from a nightmare, or just out of habit, and see Jem, standing in the doorway, as if waiting for me, with a mysterious half-smile on his face, the firelight making his silver hair glow in _that _specific way, the way that made me want to – oh. Oh, my. I couldn't possibly be thinking this. No. Never. He was _Jem; _kind, funny, Jem, and I could not fancy him. It was not right. It was not proper.

And at that moment, in a dark alleyway in London, I realized that I didn't care.

Obviously, I would never tell anyone. Not Will – though we had grown closer, he was still a boy, and it was improper to tell a man that you fancied his _parabatai. _Not Jessie – I could never confide anything in her, ever. Even though I thought of her kindly from time to time, the emphasis is still on _time to time. _I didn't really like Jessie – she was sort of like that bossy older sister who threw fits all the time. Except she was my age. I wondered how a person so young could be so bitter.

Charlotte and Henry were out of the question – no more explanation needed. Charlotte was like a mother to everyone at the Institute, and though we all were on a first-name basis, it would be impolite to burden her with my thoughts.

Sophie – she was incredibly kind, and a good friend. And a female. She seemed a perfect candidate, if anyone was, to tell. But I knew I wouldn't. This was something that I wanted to keep to myself – the way that Jem would watch me protectively as I fell asleep, the way his arm around me as we stared into the firelight made me blush, the way that, after most of my nightmares had stopped, he would still would come into my room and teach me, little by little, in the pitch back of night, how to penetrate the darkness with the violin, his long, scarred fingers on mine.

And I would never tell anyone – _anyone – _about the old Chinese lullaby that still scared away the monsters lurking in my mind.

* * *

I blinked away the bright lights – had I already made it back to a main street? The answer was yes: brightly lit shops lined wherever I was, and a few stores had signs proclaiming: Pure _adamas _weapons! Now discounted! Or Warlock run for over 150 years!

Perfect. I'd stumbled in to a place where Nephilim and Downworlders were accepted. With a grin on my face, I entered a weapons shop that reminded me of the time I'd gone to Idris with my family and gotten my first sword. On display was a seraph blade, and the handle was carved in the shape of a duck.

_Will, _was my first thought, _would absolutely _hate _this. _A smirk appeared on my face, and a warlock with blue skin gave me a strange look. _I have to get this for him. _I walked up to the man behind the counter and politely asked, "May I have a look at the seraph blade on display?"

The man grunted. "You're not the only Nephilim here wanting to buy duck-related weapons," he said gruffly. _Jem, _I thought.

"Did he, perhaps, look very young but have silvery hair?" I asked, attempting to confirm my suspicions.

"You know him?" the man asked. He stood up and came around the front of the display case, staring me down. I cursed myself for being a short, adolescent fourteen-year old, but then remembered I didn't have to that: I was already cursed.

"I do," I said. "How much is that blade, again?"

"Hm?" the salesman asked.

"The seraph blade," I patiently repeated.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it has some ancient curse on it," the man said. "I'm forbidden to sell it, but I like keeping it on display. I like ducks."

"Do you have any, er, duck-related merchandise?" I asked, hoping to find something else for Will. "A knife or something?"

"Yes!" The man instantly lit up at my request. He gestured for me to follow him, shouting, "Magnus! A girl wants a duck knife!" A bit confused, I inked on an extra speed, agility, and equilibrium rune in case this _Magnus _character was some sort of demon. My hand creeping to my weapons belt, I followed the tall man into who knows where.

Another man awaited in the room where the salesman stopped. _Definitely a warlock, _I thought as his cat's eyes followed me. He had dark hair, and a permanently amused smirk on his face. He immensely reminded me of Will, and I had to resist the urge to ask him if a stuck up Nephilim who had way too much confidence in his handsome qualities had stopped by to give him a makeover.

"Well," he drawled. "Someone has a smart mouth, don't you?"

"I said that out loud?"

Magnus, because I suppose that's the only person who he could be, laughed. "Yes, you did," he said, his eyes smiling more than his mouth. "Woolsey, you've got to close down this business," he went on. "We're getting far too many haughty, arrogant Nephilim in here."

"I suppose you might want to join us," I said, unable to stop myself. "As you're pretty haughty and arrogant yourself."

Magnus's cat's eyes flicked over to me. "I like you."

"I do too. Most of the time." I stared right back at him. _"Except _when I try to buy my friend a duck knife and get stuck dealing with a certain warlock and a – whatever you are, because I still have another present to buy, and –"

"You're Nephilim," Magnus said.

"Correct."

"You don't celebrate mundane holidays like Christmas."

"Try telling that to Charlotte!" I yelled, than internally cursed myself again for just as good as telling this weird warlock and his friend who ran a business that sold duck knifes where I was staying. "Seriously, if I can't buy anything, I'm going to leave, because I need to find another store,_ really soon, _because Charlotte imposed a stupid curfew, that SELLS DUCK KNIVES!"

Magnus laughed. And then he laughed some more. And kept laughing, and laughing, and laughing.

"Okay, I'm done," he said, wiping tears from his eyes as he saw my glare. I'd learned a thing or two from Will. "If all you wanted was a duck knife, you should've said so." Magnus produced an _adamas _knife with a duck shaped handle and a business card from a trunk. "It's free of charge – I've decided this is going to be my one good act for the day. And also, if you want to come back and make me laugh sometime – throw the card in the Thames."

"Uh, thanks," I said, wondering how I felt about a warlock wanting me for his source of entertainment.

"Don't worry, it's totally voluntary," Magnus said with a smile. "Woolsey, show her out."

* * *

Jem was the only thing on my mind – apart from cursing Will and his stupid duck knife that wasted about half the time I had. And knowing them, the boys would find me soon. Considering that Jem had been in that store meant that they were somewhere around here anyway. I ducked into another shop, this one tidy and warm, a relief from the wind outside. A dark-haired Chinese woman stood behind the counter and smiled as I came in. She waved at me, and as she put her hand down, I saw the Voyance rune on the back of it.

"Hello," I called from across the store. I wondered if I could find anything for Jem in here. His silvery hair and eyes, accompanied by his warm smile, flashed through my mind.

"Hello!" the woman cheerfully replied. Her brown eyes were welcoming, and I knew that there would be _something _suitable for my friends in here. "How can I help you today?" _Jem, _I thought.

"Er…" I looked around wildly, feeling the weight of the duck-handled blade in my backpack. My eyes fell on a small box, depicting some sort of goddess. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to it.

The woman came out from behind the counter, and I saw that she was covered in Marks, like I was. Definitely Nephilim.

"I'm not sure what use the box has," she said, stroking it gently, "but it depicts Kwan Yin, the goddess of mercy and compassion –"

"How much is it?" I asked, immediately knowing this would be a perfect present for Jem. When he was at his worst, Kwan Yin would have mercy on him. Ease his pain, his suffering.

"You need something else, don't you?" she said intuitively, with a knowing smile.

I blinked. "How did you…"

"Come," she invited. "Walk around my shop. I guarantee you'll find _everything _you need here."

I squinted at her. "And how do you know that?"

She laughed. "I had a warlock magick it for me a few years ago. It always produces the shopper's needs."

"Alright then," I said, hoping not to sound suspicious.

True to her word, the store really did contain everything I needed. I found blank music paper and a fountain pen for Jem, a sketchpad for Henry, a journal for Charlotte, and a small hair ribbon for Jessie. The woman smiled broadly when I walked up to the counter again, my arms filled with my purchases.

"What warlock magicked this place for you?" I asked, hoping for her not to answer –

"Magnus Bane."

I groaned. "This is the _second _time this day that he's helped me."

The woman grinned. "Now, that'll be…" she rung me up for a surprisingly low price. I paid, thanked her, and headed out, knowing that I'd have to face an angry Will and an even angrier, though he would not show it, Jem.

* * *

The Institute was still when I arrived. Pain began rolling in my forehead and gut, and I didn't bother to say hello. I dropped my purchases and ran to the only place it could possibly be coming from: Jem.

"Jem!" I yelled. "Jem! _James!" _

"Shut _up, _Lissa!" Will yelled back, and I relaxed a little, but not much, since the pain was still going strong. There was no way Will could feel it, he couldn't know, ever, he couldn't know, he didn't know what it felt like.

I burst into the room. Jem was in his bed, tossing and turning. His face was flushed, and he was murmuring for Will in Chinese.

"When did this happen?" I whispered.

"Not too long ago," Will replied. "We got in a fight with a demon, and Jem tried to – by the Angel, Lissa, how are you supposed to deal with it when your _parabatai _is nobler than you?" Will looked lost, more like the fourteen year old boy he was than the smart mouthed adult he pretended to be.

"Your _parabatai _is nobler than everyone." We stared at Jem for a minute, his silver hair plastered to his face, when –

I shouted in pain, groaning when the feeling subsided and cursing myself for making so much noise.

"What, Lissa?" Will asked, his eyes studying me.

What had I done? This had never happened; I'd stayed my distance from even my family to avoid this section of the curse. I didn't answer Will, instinctively knowing what would happen if I did: all the pent up pain inside of me, as well as what Jem had felt – what I was feeling – would surge back into him, and double, and continue to grow until he sent it back into me, and I couldn't scream or else it would –

A searing bolt of white-hot pain jetted through my entire body, crippling me, and I finally allowed myself to scream, feeling the pain leave my body and return to Jem. _Jem. _

I had never cared for anyone before, and now I learned what would happen if I did.

"Lissa, are you alright?" Will's face swam in my vision, almost looking concerned.

"Don't tell Charlotte," I whispered, suddenly aware of the dried tears on my face. "Whatever you do, don't tell Charlotte about this. Make something up. I can't let her know this happened." The more affection she felt for me, and I for her, the more of a chance there was of something like this happening.

"Lissa–"

"Please, Will." I reached out my hand, hoping to find Jem's, and locked my fingers in his. It would happen any minute, any second –

"Okay," Will said, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mark me."

"What?"

"Soundless."

"You want me to put the Soundless rune on you?" Will seemed confused.

"Yes." I nodded.

"Lissa, I deserve an explanation."

"Do it!"

Will took the stele in his hand and drew, just as Jem's tossing and turning stopped and he shouted, and all of what he'd held in came flowing back to me, and the only thought I had was that if one of us died, it was better me than him.

The pain was like a serpent, writhing around my body, finding new places to nest – my legs, my arms, my head – until my body felt like it was on fire – no, I _was _on fire. The flames consumed me, and I let them, thinking _better me than him, better me than him, better me than – _

"Lissa!" Will shouted. His arms were around me – was it an embrace? No, he was constraining me, my flailing limbs cowering against the fire. His arms were iron brands, and I screamed, but no sound came out. _Better me than him, better me than him. _"Lissa, you're burning!" I shook my head no, but Will didn't take notice. "Lissa, what's happening?" _Better me than him, better me than him. _

"I'm taking you to Charlotte!" Will yelled into my ear.

"_No!" _I tried to say, but the Soundless rune was doing its job. Not Charlotte, just don't tell Charlotte, don't tell her, _don't tell Charlotte._

"Will, just leave me here!" I mouthed, but he didn't understand, he couldn't understand. As a new wave of pain racked my body, I let it take over and sank like a stone into unconsciousness.

* * *

_The London Institute, 1875_

_Perspective: William Herondale_

I'd always known Lissa was hiding something. But I still didn't know what. She had burst into Jem's room as soon as she'd arrived back from the market – something I would've done. For the first time, I saw what everyone meant when they said that we were alike. But apart from that, no.

Lissa had always had an odd sort of connection to Jem, something I couldn't help but envy, even though Jem was my _parabatai _and had been for the past two years. I would see it sometimes, in the way that Lissa would touch Jem's upper arm lightly when he made a joke, or the way everything else seemed to disappear to her when Jem was ill. The way that Lissa would refuse to move if anyone told her while she was waiting on him, even if he was asleep, and even if that 'anyone' was a Silent Brother. I would see it in the way that Jem would lean over to Lissa and whisper something in her ear, in the way that he would study her face in the firelight during dinner. I would see it in the way that Jem would shout Lissa's name, followed by a torrent of Chinese, when he was sleeping and feverish.

And now I saw it when Lissa reached her hand towards Jem, and Jem's fingers curled around hers tighter than she gripped his.

"Mark me."

"What?" I was disoriented. Something was seriously wrong, and it had to do with the little wall Lissa had built around herself, how every smile came with a frown, and a drawback into her own world behind the barrier.

"Soundless," Lissa said.

"You want me to put the Soundless rune on you?" What would she need that for?

"Yes."

"Lissa, I deserve an explanation."

"Do it!" she hissed at me.

I whipped out my stele and drew the rune, ready to ask her again to explain before I remembered that, with the Soundless rune, she couldn't speak.

A cracking sound that came from Lissa and Jem's outstretched hands made her open her mouth in a silent scream. She shook, and began murmuring silently to herself, eyes closed.

She was in pain; that I could tell. And Jem… Jem's eyes were closed, and the flush on his cheeks had gone down. It was as if Lissa had taken his pain and bore it herself.

Experimentally, I stretched my hand towards her forehead. She bat it away with what should've been a shout. I crept up behind her and wrapped my hands around her thin frame.

"Lissa!" I shouted. She curled up, shaking her head. I pried it out of the ball she had become and pressed my hand to her forehead, just long enough to feel the heat of her fever – Jem's fever. "Lissa, you're burning!"

Dried tears coated her face, and she mouthed, "Will, just leave me here!" I shook my head, and picked her up. Lissa jerked, and I shook her limp form, but she was already unconscious.

Lissa's dark, wavy hair plastered to her brow and hung over my arms as I shouted for help.

"Charlotte! Henry! Jessie? Anyone?!" I tore through the halls, Lissa's body startlingly hot against my own.

"Will!" It was Charlotte. Lissa's words echoed in my mind, but I needed her to save Lissa. _Sorry, _I apologized mentally.

"Take her." I held out my arms, trying again to put on the semblance of distaste that I usually managed. "Demon, I think. Maybe a mis-drawn _iratze. _I don't know. I just found her." Charlotte gave me a reproving look, and I hoped that I had done what Lissa wanted by excluding Jem from the picture in the first place.

"Oh, my," Charlotte clucked. "Well, I believe that the Silent Brother treating Jem hasn't left yet; we'd better get her down to the infirmary." I followed Charlotte with Lissa in my arms, hoping that she would be okay – hoping that Jem would be okay.

* * *

_The London Institute, 1875_

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern_

"Lissa?" Charlotte's gentle voice awakened me, and I cursed Will mentally for taking me to her. The one instruction I give, and he manages to not follow it. "Will says you had a pretty bad run-in with a Shax demon." He made up a cover story. _Will _made up a cover story! Will did what I wanted him to! _Will!_

"Yes," I replied. "I saw him when I came in, but didn't have any time to explain more than that. May I see him?"

"Will?"

"Yes."

"Of course," Charlotte said, seemingly flustered. She stood up and called, "Will? Will!"

"Right here, Charlotte." Will seemingly appeared from nowhere out of the shadows.

"Lissa would like to –"

"See me. I know."

Charlotte left with a smile and a, "Call me if you need anything!"

And then I was alone with Will.

"Thanks."

He arched one eyebrow. "That's all I get?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"

"No." I got up.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Ailments are tricky business, Mr. Herondale." I began to walk away; the curse left no aftereffects like a sickness did.

"Curses are tricky business, I think." I could hear the smile in Will's voice.

I stopped dead.

"What do you know about curses?" I whispered.

"More than you'd think, Miss Morgenstern," Will said smoothly. "More than you'd think."

* * *

"Though we have had a few, er, setbacks," Charlotte said with a smile, looking at Jem and I, who were sitting next to each other, "We _finally _can have our non-Christmas celebration."

"Hurrah!" Will said sarcastically, earning a disapproving look from Charlotte.

I didn't expect anything. I was serious when I'd told Jem that I wasn't going to get any presents. So I was pleasantly surprised when Will came up to me and said, "Lis, I got you a gift."

"Oh really?" I didn't tell him that he was filling in the place of brother in my life at the moment, and the nickname was appropriate.

"Yeah." Will grinned.

"And what's that?" I arched one eyebrow.

"Air from my lungs!" Will blew in my face, and I couldn't help but laugh as I removed the duck knife from my pocket.

"I got you a present too, Willers," I said, and threw the knife at the wall, hitting it perfectly on the little piece of paper someone had hung up but never took down. "Go fetch." Will gave me a withering look, but jogged over and yanked the knife out of the wall.

"It's a _duck!" _he screamed in horror. Jem laughed, and I laughed with him.

"Thoughtful gift," Jem said as Will returned, dangling the knife from between his fingers.

"I know," I replied. "I got something for you."

Jem smiled. "A knife?"

"No," I said with my own grin. I found the box and music paper that I'd dropped when I arrived yesterday. "It's not wrapped, but…" Jem instantly knew what the box was for, and I had to encourage him, "open it!" His face lit up when he saw the paper, and instantly exclaimed, "Oh, thank you, Lissa!" I smiled, happier than I thought possible, when Jem got up.

"Where are you –" I began, but my question was cut off when Jem returned with a large box.

"It's not wrapped either, but…" I smiled at him, forgetting the curse and everything I'd gone through, because it was all okay, because I had this moment with just me and Jem. The box, it turned out, was not a box at all, but a case, and inside it was…

"Jem!" I gasped, letting the lid bang shut and throwing my arms around him, not caring who saw, and his were around me too, and as we drew apart he grinned that sly, silvery grin that I was falling for every second.

"You like it, then?" he asked.

"James," I said with a smile. "I _love _it."

"You know that you're going to be _awful _at the violin, right?" Will asked, appearing out of some demonic realm to ruin our fun.

"Oh, I know," I said, grinning up at him. I slung my arm around Jem and squeezed his shoulders. "That's why I'm getting such a great teacher."

* * *

**Okay, so that was Chapter 4! I could've sworn it was longer when it was still in Microsoft Word, but *sighs* I guess the world isn't a wish granting factory.**

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**Allons-y!**

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	5. Happy Birthday: Part One

**Hi there!**

**So I was reading stuff, and I realized just how ungrateful I sound. **

**I've gotten eight reviews (!) and reading each one has filled me up with so much fangirl joy that you can't even imagine. I want to thank everyone who reviewed and made me so happy, even if it was only a word or two. It thrills me to know that so many people have read and enjoyed my work.**

**And we also can never ever forget Cat Lunanoff. Seriously, I need a round-of-applause thing inserted right here because this girl is SO. AMAZING. She's reviewed every single one of my chapters and made my day every time - sometimes my entire week. I have to say thank you _SO _much, I can't even put it in words, just feel my gratitude. Thank you SO MUCH. **

**And without further adieu, here's the chapter!**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1876_

_Perspective: Third Person Limited (James Carstairs)_

Jem was in the music room. His violin case lay open next to Lissa's, the box that held his instrument hurriedly thrown open in his haste to take it out. And yet now that he had it, the violin, in his hands, he still felt something missing.

It was Lissa.

Lissiane Morgenstern. The Institute's fourth ward. Jem would think about making her part of the dysfunctional family that he'd created with Will and Jessie, but while Lissa seemed to be like a sister to them, Jem had never been able to think of her that way.

And yet there were times when Lissa retreated into that odd shell of hers: eyes flashing, hiding behind her words.

There were times when Lissa would wake up screaming in the night, when she would call out for someone – for Jem, sometimes, and guiltily, secretly, he liked that.

He liked that she trusted him.

He hoped that she trusted him.

He hoped that she knew that he meant what he said that night: if she was in danger, he would not hesitate to help her.

Even if it put his own life in danger.

Jem knew that Lissa would do the same for him – it was almost as if she hated herself with a burning passion, believing that anyone else would be better to save than her. It was as if she thought that recklessly throwing herself in the path of danger would make up for the great sin of her existence.

Like Will.

But worse.

Will roamed the city at night, finding odd, eccentric places in Downworld.

Dangerous places.

But nothing like the way that Lissa would seem to expect people to put themselves ahead of her. At the Institute, they didn't do that. They looked out for one another.

Jem wouldn't do that to her.

It was all very mundane, the way Shadowhunters wrapped up their feelings in words like _fancy _or _care for, _words that meant nothing but pretty faces covered with the disguise of makeup and handsome men with poisonous minds.

No, it had been two years, and the feeling was clear: _love._

Four letters.

One syllable.

Three words – three words, each with one syllable to call their own – to change a life.

Three words with eight letters total.

Ten, if you counted the spaces.

Three words.

Three words that Jem would never say.

Three words that would not fall from his lips, that would not be heard by anyone, much less this girl – Lissiane Morgenstern, who called him James sometimes, - who he was falling in love with.

There was no other word: it was love.

"Jem?" a slight figure appeared in the doorway. Jem had not realized that he'd been playing the violin all this time, filling up the space that should've been filled with Lissa: her laugh, her smile, her sarcasm, even her temper. "Jem, are you alright?" Was he hearing things? Seeing things? Was there any way that Lissa could come to the music room at the exact time he was there? It wasn't possible. It must've been his condition. That was the only explanation.

"Go away, Will," Jem growled, in case his _parabatai _actually was there. He returned his attention to the violin –

"By the Angel, Jem, you idiot, _how _many times do I have to tell you I'm not Will?" Jem stopped at the sound of the voice – yes, the only voice it could've been –

"_Lissa?" _

"Of _course _it's me, you fool!" she cried. "Who else would come up to the music room in the middle of the night to see you – and _don't _say Will, okay? – because –" Lissa stopped. "Because –"

"Can you sit down?" Jem's voice was husky, low, becoming the voice of a man as he grew into adulthood.

"Of course," Lissa said, taking a seat next to him. With the moonlight splashing on her face, Jem saw her beauty – what he'd missed for the two years their friendship had grown, even though Lissa had tried repeatedly to pull herself away.

Lissa was absentmindedly staring at the instruments, so Jem finally allowed himself to stare – no, merely _observe – _her. Lissa's dark hair was wind-blown, as one of the open windows let in a breeze, and tangled from the lack of combing. It was usually in a ponytail, or braid, and Will had nearly chopped it off once before Charlotte intervened ("I didn't really care," Lissa had said afterwards with a shrug. "I'd thought about cutting it, and this was a good way to make the decision."), but Jem had never admitted that he'd liked the way it was: long and wild. Lissa's tan skin – but tan was not really the word to describe it, nor caramel, but a glowing in-between shade – looked pale in the moonlight as the beams washed over her. Her startlingly vibrant green eyes always lit up animatedly when she spoke, and Jem always felt washed-out next to the colorful girl who always sat beside him. Lissa had a small nose, something Jessamine had criticized, (but stopped when an irritated Lissa snapped, "Are you only doing this to me because _your _nose is gigantic?"), but Jem found strangely down putting to Lissa's fiery demeanor and extensive fighting skills. A small smattering of barely-there freckles ran across her cheekbones, and semi-arched eyebrows made for a good sarcastic look while having verbal battles with Will, though, as she'd randomly confessed to Jem, she regretted not being able to raise one at a time. Lissa was short, with a small frame, making Jem feel like a giant around her. It was nothing compared to when she was with Will, though; passersby sometimes would stop to laugh when she challenged the much taller boy.

_How could I ever have thought that Lissa wasn't beautiful? _Jem thought, watching her. _Because beauty isn't something that can be taught, or mimicked, and while Lissa is not one's traditional sense of beauty, she is striking nonetheless – not only in looks, but in her soul._

"Jem," Lissa said, sounding urgent. Jem suspected she'd called him more than once.

"Hm?" Jem made a noncommittal noise of compliance. He wanted to lean in and…

"Jem, you're going to drop you're violin!"

"Hm?" Jem looked down to see his instrument had slipped almost entirely from his fingers. He swore, grasping at it before the slippery wood fell through his fingers. "By the Angel, Lissa, thank you."

"Well, someone has to save you and I'm the only one here," she said with a laugh, putting her hand on Jem's. It took a heartbeat for Jem to realize that Lissa had snatched it off, and her brown cheeks were aflame with a fiery red blush.

"Lissa…" Jem's plaintive voice trailed off when Lissa turned to face him.

"James." Her tone was even, their faces hardly an inch apart.

"Lissiane." Jem's voice trembled, but he held his ground. "Lissiane, I apologize profoundly for what I am about to do."

"Jem, don't be sorry…" she whispered, and as Jem leaned forward, Lissa tilted her face forwards – was she returning his – and then all his thoughts were shattered as their lips were on each other's, gentle, so gentle, and there was something fierce lying under it, something that told Jem and Lissa that their attraction was more than a passing fancy, and no matter what they did, it would stay with them. And for Jem, there was nothing more than her lips on his, soft, still sleepy from waking up so late in the night – or was it early morning? – tasting of the sweet vanilla milk she'd drank at dinner, and those eyes, those bright green eyes, lighting up the world with color, lighting up _Jem _with color, silver Jem and bright Lissa, together.

For Lissa it was his eyes, the silver like molten lead, drawing her in like a whirlpool, and his lips, with the sweet smell of yin fen, so silvery like the boy she loved, the boy whose lips were on hers, so intoxicating and yet so dangerous. The cautioning voices in Lissa's mind disappeared as she kissed him, and the reason in Jem's mind must've done the same, because their kisses grew deeper, and there was nothing but each other.

It didn't matter anymore that Jem was colorless, because as long as he and Lissa were together, wrapped in this embrace until the end of time, it would all be okay. Because as long as he and Lissa were together, Jem was as colorful as he'd been before all this happened.

Before Yanluo attacked.

Before he was addicted.

Before.

They finally broke apart, yearning for each other again, wanting the thing that they'd needed most and finally had, just a taste, on one day.

"You know…" Lissa whispered. "You know it's my birthday, right?"

* * *

"Will?" Jem stood hesitantly in his _parabatai's _doorway, hoping not to sound as foolish as he felt.

"Yeah?" Will looked up from whatever he was doing – by the looks of it, remodeling the handle on the knife Lissa had given him for Christmas – or whatever their holiday celebration had been called – the year before.

"It's Lissa's birthday." Jem shifted his weight awkwardly.

"That's nice," Will said with apparent disinterest. When Jem didn't leave, he sighed, "I suppose you want to _do _something for her?"

Jem paused. That was _exactly _what he wanted to do, but the way Will said it made him wonder if he'd been wrong in coming to enlist his help. "Yes," he answered finally.

Will sighed dramatically. "What are you going to do next, proclaim your undying love?"

Jem didn't answer, and Will, who had gone back to mauling the duck, looked up again.

"You're kidding."

Jem stayed silent.

"James, tell me you're kidding!"

Jem hesitated. "No," he said slowly. "I…I cannot tell you that."

Will stood up, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His eyes were locked on his _parabatai's,_ and he whispered, "James…" He was silent for a few moments, then asked, "Does she know?"

Jem sighed. "I'm not sure," he confessed. "Nor do I believe that… that she returns my feelings."

"James, you idiot, how could she not?"

Jem's silvery gaze held Will as if he was suspended in midair. "Perhaps because I am a dying addict to _yin fen." _

"She doesn't care!" Will blurted, without knowing what he was going to say. But the moment he did, he knew it was true. "She doesn't care, James, I know she…" Jem still remained silent. "What makes you think that?"

"I kissed her." Jem's tone was light, his words simple and blunt. "This morning, in the music room." Will couldn't help but feel the tiniest hint of a smile – a real smile – spread across his face.

"Then what makes you –" Will stopped. "She kissed you back, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"Then _why _do you think that Lissa does not care for you in the same way that you care for her?"

"She left." Jem folded his arms over his chest. "After."

"So?"

"She was crying."

Will stood up. "What do you want to do for her birthday again?"

* * *

Lissa couldn't stop the flow of her tears after the kiss she'd shared with Jem that morning. Though every cell in her body had screamed at her that this was the only thing that mattered, she knew that she was only hurting him by letting herself get close to him.

But the kiss was the best present she'd ever gotten, birthday or otherwise.

And Lissa loved him.

_Jem. _

"Hey." It was Will.

"Go away."

"What, no respect?" Will smirked.

"Get out of my room or I'll attack you."

"Someone's moody." Will stepped across the threshold.

"I said, get _out!" _

"Why are you crying?" Will pressed. He needed to know that he was right, and Jem was wrong.

"Go away."

"Really, Lissa, I just want to help you."

"Go. Away."

"Lissa –"

"Leave!"

"But –"

"It's my birthday, okay, and I got the only thing that I wanted, and it's slowly going to kill me, alright?"

"Ailments are tricky business, Miss Morgenstern." A smile played about Will's lips; Lissa's words replayed in his head: "the only thing that I wanted."

"I think you mean, curses are tricky business, Mister Herondale." His own words had come back to haunt him, and Will, who had turned to go, stopped.

He'd suspected that Lissa was cursed, but never for her to admit it this blatantly.

"Come train," Will offered, turning around.

"I'll be down in a second," Lissa said, not questioning the sudden change in topic.

"Of course." Will gave her a curt nod. "I'll see you then."

* * *

**Er, sorry that this chapter is kind of cut off in the middle, but a) I have mild writer's block - it exists and it's them most frustrating thing on the planet, so this is probably awful so I'm sorry if I made you read something bad, and b) I'm going to do it in two parts.**

**Also: if you got 1+ of the references in the last chapter, PM me and I'll send you a little teaser of what's going to happen later in the story. (Yay for my planning which is totally of course but whatever!) **

**Thanks again to Cat Lunanoff for being so awesome and supportive and just eeeee! **

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	6. Happy Birthday: Part Two

**Hi there guys! **

**So this is the second half of Lissa's birthday chapter and I'm updating now instead of, like, Saturday, because a) I'm feeling really inspired and b) I want to get to _Angel _pretty soon (like maybe three-five more chapters, sorry...) and c) the amount of reviews for this story has reached double digits and the amount of views has reached over five hundred. And I'm just like: OH. MY. GOD. By the Angel, you guys are AMAZING. I mean, _half a thousand views ohmygod! _So yeah. Thank you.**

**And also again to Cat Lunanoff for her AMAZING review last chapter and to Guest for giving me the tenth review (!) and to everyone else - The Written Illusion and all you guys - for helping me get to where I am now and I'm just going to shut up now and give you guys the chapter because you don't want to read this...**

**So without further adieu, (and there was an awful lot of it!), here it is!**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1876_

_Perspective: Third Person Limited (Lissiane Morgenstern)_

_Jem doesn't care, _Lissa reminded herself sternly, even as she stared into the mirror, checking her reflection on all sides. _There is no way that he cares. _Lissa's hands went up to her hair, making sure that not a single strand was out of place. _Jem doesn't love you. _

Her hands stopped moving entirely. _That's right, _part of her mind jabbed, _he doesn't love you and he never will. _

A tiny tear leaked its way out of her eye, tracing a tiny river down her cheek and landing with a splash on the vanity table. _He doesn't love you and he never will. _

It had been easy enough to ignore her feelings for Jem when he wasn't there. It was harder when he was in front of her, smiling that silvery smile, devoid of color and yet full of life. It was as if Jem made up for his short lifespan by living three times the amount that everyone else did. It had been too hard in the music room this morning, as she watched him out of the corner of her eye, the breeze blowing his hair in frustratingly adorable patterns. What she would've done to run her hands through it, Lissa thought with a sigh. But it had been obvious by the way that Jem looked at her that he thought of her as a friend, nothing more. The brotherly affection in his eyes when they rested on her, the way that she felt like Jem was holding back sometimes, as if there was another side of his personality that she had never seen. And then, idiotically, she'd kissed him.

A tiny part of her wanted to believe that he'd kissed her back, that he'd felt the same explosion of sparks and the same rush of life and love, that he, too, felt that this one kiss wasn't enough. But Lissa could see by the way that Jem had not tried to stop her when she left, by the way that he had not stood and wiped away the tear, the way that his eyes contained so much guilt as they were locked on hers, that Jem did not feel the way she did. One didn't kiss their siblings. Jem wouldn't kiss Lissa.

Lissa was afraid for him. She was afraid for the next time that he was ill, the next time her curse set in. The increased pain might overwhelm him. It might _kill _him. Jem might die earlier than he already was going to, and because Lissa was selfish and had spent her birthday morning kissing him.

She wished she could regret it.

And though she knew that Jem, kind, selfless Jem, would never see her and hold her in the same regard that she held him, she still stood in front of the vanity, looking at the way the gear slid over her body and how her hair held its braid.

"Excuse me," a mild voice said from her doorway.

"Sophie, there's no reason to be polite; I've told you a million times –"

"I'm not Sophie."

Lissa spun around to see Jem leaning against the doorframe, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Jem – I'm so sorry – I didn't know it –" Lissa cursed herself for stuttering like an idiot, but Jem only smiled.

"It's alright," he replied. "Will was wondering where you were."

Lissa's heart plunged. Jem was simply being kind, and sparing her from the verbal attack Will would've given her by coming up to get her for training.

"Of course," Lissa said, cheeks flaming. "Tell Will I'll be down in a second."

* * *

Lissa didn't expect anything. Sure, it was her birthday, but seriously? It was Will they were talking about. Of course, it was Jem too, but Jem seemed oblivious to the fact that it was her birthday, even though she'd told him that morning. Lissa paused outside the doors to the training room, took a deep breath, turned the knobs, and –

"Happy birthday!" Jessie, Will, Charlotte, even Henry, and Jem cried as Lissa threw open the doors. Her hand flew to her mouth as she saw them standing there, looking as festive as one could while wearing fighting gear in a room full of weapons.

"By the Angel –" she gasped. "Did you do this for _me?"_

Will snorted. "No, we did it for Jessie," he deadpanned, then turned to the group. "Can we eat the cake now?"

"Will –" Charlotte admonished, but the dark-haired boy had already turned and began running towards the back of the room.

"It was supposed to be for you," Will called, "but I think that –" Jem had beaten Will to Lissa's birthday cake and plucked the knife from Will's hand.

"It _is _for her," Jem said with a grin as Lissa made her way to the back of the training room, where a rich brown cake lay on the center of the table.

"It's chocolate peppermint." Will didn't take his eyes off it. "It's _beautiful." _

"Will, let Lissa have the first slice," Charlotte said. "It is her birthday, after all."

Lissa smiled at Jem as he cut the slice of the cake for her. "I _love _peppermint."

"We know," Will said before Jem could respond. "Remember those candy canes at the Christmas party last year?"

Lissa grinned. "All too well," she said, sinking in the memory of the sharp peppermint sticks in her mouth.

"Do you like it?" Jem spoke quietly, leaning down close enough so that his lips almost brushed her ear.

"It's perfect," Lissa said, hoping that her eyes did not betray the way her heart fluttered as they came in close contact. "I love it."

"_Měihǎo de yītiān wéi yīgè měilì de nǚhái," _Jem said softly.

Lissa looked up at him and smiled. "What does that mean?"

"It means, 'A perfect birthday only comes once a year," Jem said, handing her the plate. "Here, shall we sit?" He gestured to a corner of the training room which wasn't cover in weapons or targets. Lissa sat down next to him and hoped that her staring wasn't obvious. She simply couldn't help it, Jem's strong profile gazed out ahead of her, and Lissa felt her cheeks color as she replayed that morning's kiss for the millionth time in her head.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Will asked as he hovered above them; Lissa felt distinctly annoyed, as if Will had walked in on a private moment.

"No, of course not," Jem replied with a smile directed at his _parabatai. _

Will sat down. "It's a shame Agatha didn't make any more cake," he said, gesturing to his half-empty plate. "I only agreed to help Jem with this entire event because he promised there'd be chocolate." Will cut into the remaining part of his large slice with vigor. "Then again, it _does _have peppermint in it, which is a disadvantage –"

"Hey!" Lissa protested. "I love peppermint!"

Will shook his head. "It's so… _icy," _he sighed.

"Like your heart," Lissa retorted.

Jem laughed. "Well, _this _escalated quickly."

Will gestured animatedly with his fork. "It's true, all right," he said with a smirk. "Lis here just forgot to mention that her precious little heart is frozen as well."

Lissa dipped her head in agreement. "I guess," she replied amiably.

"And you _still _don't see the similarity?" Jem asked incredulously.

Will and Lissa groaned in unison. "Not _this _again," Will complained.

"I thought we settled that over the Behemoth demon," Lissa added.

Jem smiled. "Fine, fine. I'll give it up." His hand almost came to rest on Lissa's, and Will caught the movement. A silent exchange passed between the two of them, and Lissa wished that she didn't know them as well as she did.

_Will: Go ahead! If you have feelings for her, express them!_

_Jem: Will, you know I can't._

_Will: I know _what?

_Jem: You know that I won't._

_Will: Why not?_

_Jem: Will, you know why I won't give her empty promises!_

_Will: They're not empty!_

_Jem: They are, and – _

Lissa looked away. It was obvious by their facial expressions that what she'd known all along was true. Jem finally shook his head and Will sent him a disparaging look.

"Hey," Lissa said to break the silence. "We _were _supposed to train, right?"

* * *

Will barely flinched as the twenty seventh knife landed above his head.

"Great!" Lissa applauded from where she stood, "Now watch out!" _Thunk. _

Twenty eight.

_Thunk. _

Twenty nine.

_Thunk. _

Thirty.

"Step away from the target now!" Jem called, surveying their work. Will jogged back to stand with them, and saw the outline of his body created entirely out of the blade of thirty knives.

"You cut it close," Will said with a whistle.

Lissa grinned. "Now watch _this." _She threw ten more knives in rapid succession, each one landing inside the cutout of Will's body, creating a –

"No, no, no, no, _no!" _Will screamed, running towards the target and pulling out every last knife inside the Will-cutout.

"He _really _hates ducks," Lissa observed quietly.

Jem laughed. "Don't you?"

Lissa had only told anyone about her duck hatred once, and it was Jem, when she had first arrived, and he had been half asleep, feverish, and delirious. A warm feeling spread throughout her chest as she realized that he'd remembered what she'd said on that day, two years ago.

"I have completely and totally recovered from my hatred," she said with an innocent smile, watching Will's expression as he yanked out the knives forming the outline of a duck's head. "He's hilarious." Jem laughed along with her.

Lissa reached out a hand towards Jem before snatching it away. They stood in silence for a moment before Henry ran up to them, saying "Lissa! It is your birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lissa replied, somewhat wary of the stick-shaped object Henry was holding.

"I brought you a present!" Henry beamed as broadly as if he'd just announced that he'd eliminated all demons from Earth and summoned Raziel to help him.

"Thank you!" Lissa said politely, still a bit afraid. Henry pulled the stick-like object from out behind his back, revealing to all its true identity.

"It's a parasol." Lissa seemed a bit disappointed, and Henry pouted.

"Fine then!" he huffed. "I thought girls _liked _parasols!" Henry threw the delicate umbrella across the room –

"_Henry!" _Charlotte squealed as it hurtled past her, suddenly moving much faster and growing even more silvery than it already had when Henry had first shown her the shimmering, ladylike gift.

_Thunk. _The parasol hit the wall and something else – something sharp and dangerous – shot out of the handle. Lissa and Jem ducked as it flew over their heads and hit the wall behind them.

"Hm." Henry seemed pleased. "I forgot it – _oof!" _He broke off suddenly as Lissa hugged him.

"Thank you so much, Henry!" She grinned up at him; though Henry was not tall, Lissa was still shorter. "I love it so much, and it's so inconspicuous too!" Henry smiled back down at her, and Will, who had finished yanking all the knives out of the wall, cleared his throat.

"Give her a parasol and she's disappointed," he lamented, "but give her a weapon and it's like you're the center of the universe."

"Oh, shut up," Lissa said, but she was smiling as she stood next to Jem. "I don't see you giving me anything."

Will smirked. "I have given you the gift of my amazing presence and charisma," he said.

Henry walked over to the parasol, which had turned into a throwing star, and pressed a button on its handle. The knife wobbled from its place in the wall and flew across the room, inserting itself into the bottom of the umbrella. The sharp blades in the spokes retracted until it looked like a normal parasol again. Henry handed the parasol to Lissa, who twirled it and said, "You'd better not get on my bad side, Will."

"You have a good side?" Will asked.

"Of course," Lissa said with a grin. "Reserved exclusively for Jem. And Charlotte. And Henry."

"Doesn't sound so exclusive," Will remarked.

"Well, _you're _not on that list anywhere, so I wouldn't be commenting," Lissa reminded him. Jem had slipped his pinky finger through Lissa's, and she had squeezed his hand without a second thought.

* * *

"So, how was it?" Jem asked her as they stood alone in the empty training room. In reply, Lissa stood on her tiptoes and hugged him, though she knew that she would regret it the next time Jem was ill.

But she was selfish.

She didn't care.

She loved it.

She hardly felt Jem's lips brush her forehead, but there was still more meaning behind her words as she said, "Best. Birthday. _Ever."_

* * *

It was taking Will forever to remake the duck knife, and another interruption came as he heard a knock on his opened door.

"Come on in, Jem, there's no need to be polite," he said without looking up.

"I'm not Jem."

"Lissa?"

"No, it's Sophie."

"What do you want, Lissa?" Will finally looked up to see the short girl's silhouette in his doorway.

She shifted, and Will could swear he could see her dark cheeks reddening in the black of the barely lit hallway. It _was _late, after all, and Lissa probably should be sleeping. She took a deep breath and hesitantly but determinedly asked, "When's Jem's birthday?"

Will couldn't stop grinning.

* * *

**This gave me feels to write and yes, Cat, the peppermint was inspired by you :) **

**I got the parasol idea from Jessie's parasol, don't judge me, okay?**

**And also I have never mentioned this but, as much as I would've liked to have created Jem, he belongs to Cassandra Clare. *sigh* Only Lissa is mine but she is entirely mine and yeah, the Infernal Devices are also Cassie Clare's. *sigh***

**Gosh, I hate disclaimers. They're so depressing.**

**And Guest, I added in that hint of romance for you :) I'm really sorry but the chapters leading up to _Angel _are going to be painful to read and write because it's going to break your heart with the denial that the other is in love with them and just _erph. _So yeah, sorry.**

**And um, just a hint, the Chinese does NOT mean what I said it did. What Jem said. So go on Google Translate or wait until I tell you which will take like another ten chapters! Mwahahaha.**

**This is like the longest A/N ever, so sorry. Have a nice life.**

**Don't forget to review though!**

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	7. A Dragon: Part One

**Erm, hi! *little wave***

**So, please don't murder me for not updating I feel really bad but it's just been CRAZY and then when I finally had time to write I got sick _BUT - _**

**you don't care about this so just read the chapter and yeah, it's not that great and yeah, it's short (I did your favorite thing and split it in half, I know, thank me - NOT) but it's here!**

**Also: Clockwork Angel is in sight! There's this chapter, the rest of it, the one after it, the one after that, and then the one after that is Clockwork Angel! (If that made sense!)**

**So sorry for the forever long A/N and the incredibly bad chapter, but here we go!**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1777_

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern_

"There's a Dragon demon down in a dark alley a few streets over," Will said cheerfully as he picked up his jacket and headed out the door. "Be back in a –"

"I would think not, Will!" Charlotte's reprimand came from the hallway as she walked briskly into the entry hall. I'd always wondered how she was able to make her short stature look commanding, and if she could teach _me _any of those tricks.

Will slumped. _"Char-lotte," _he complained. "I'm a Shadowhunter. We kill demons. There's a demon out there, therefore, I'm going to go kill it!" He turned to leave again.

"Will." Charlotte's voice was sharp. "At least take Lissa and Jem with you." She sounded resigned, and I knew that no matter how hard she tried, Will constantly pushed her away.

"Fine." Will shot a dagger-sharp look at the head of the Institute, before dramatically pulling himself away from the wall and calling, "Jem! Get down here! Charlotte says Lissa and I need a chaperone!"

I smacked Will lightly on the arm. "He's lying!" I called up the stairs. "It's me whom Charlotte is sending to look after the two of you! Might get yourselves killed without me!"

Will shoved me and took his place again. "Just get down here before one of us kills the other," he yelled. There was a clattering of footsteps on the stairs as Jem arrived, dressed in gear.

"I see you two are ready," Jem said. Will looked over at me as if noticing my attire for the first time.

"You're in gear."

I rolled my eyes. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"She's always in gear, Will, have you not been paying any attention at all?"

"I try not to look."

"I don't try. I succeed," I butted in. "Will really isn't very noticeable, if you ignore him hard enough. He's practically invisible. Like an ant."

Jem gave a startled laugh, and I grinned. I loved the sound that was always my reward for making Jem happy. I could hear him speak, hear him laugh, see him smile, all day.

"We'd better get going," Will said stiffly. "Come along, Jem, and we'll try to ignore the cockroach along with us."

"Cockroaches are larger than ants," I helpfully supplied as we started for the door. "I'm almost positive that they eat ants, too. Far more difficult to ignore."

"You're impossible," Will said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. As I looked over at Jem, I saw that he was shaking in silent laughter. "Thomas, ready the horses, please, we need a carriage," he instructed as we walked out the door and into the musty afternoon air.

"Of course," Thomas said with a polite dip of his head. I shook my own, wondering how anyone could manage to be – and stay – so polite to Will over all these years. Thomas' self-control and discipline was something I could only wish for.

_What of Jem? _my mind asked, my thoughts returning to him as they so often did. _Is he not kind and controlled, calm in the face of, well, Will, but not only that, but putting up with you? Does he deserve no merit for comforting you in the darkness of – _

_Oh, hush! _I thought viciously against the laments of my mind. _Of course Jem counts for something – everything! He will always be enough for – _

"Lissa. Lissa. _Lissa!" _

"Pardon?" I broke out of my reverie, embarrassed.

"I asked if you needed an extra seraph blade," Jem said with a kind smile.

"Oh." I flushed. "Yes, thank you." I accepted the weapon and Jem, who'd stepped ahead of me, offered his arm to help me into the carriage. Will, still singing taunts about who knows what, climbed into the driver's seat, leaving Jem and I alone in the back.

The carriage set off almost immediately, bumping over the cobblestone roads. I turned my back on Jem decidedly, so that my lack of self-control would not be a problem. Why, the ride would hardly take ten minutes! Not nearly enough time to get into any sort of trouble –

"Lissa," Jem said softly, and I turned to face him against my better judgment.

"James." I realized that I'd said his name for the sake of hearing the way it fell from my lips, and hurriedly asked, "Yes?"

He smiled, as if not at all put off by my flustered manner. "I know that this may seem like an odd time," he began. "But I have known you for quite a while, Lissiane, and was wondering if I may – perhaps – ask you a question."

"Of course." These were simple matters; nothing to lose my head over. Questions had answers, and answers I could give.

"How did you know of my ailment on the first night you arrived?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath to calm my racing heart.

"Did Charlotte not tell you?" I fought to keep my voice light.

Jem shook his head, scattering silvery droplets of moonlight from the rays that peeked into our carriage.

"How odd," I remarked, as if commenting on the weather. "The Silent Brothers applied an Awareness rune on my tenth birthday." The lie I told Charlotte slips easily out of my lips. "It was far more powerful than my parents intended, see, it wasn't supposed to be so –" I cleared my throat; I was rambling now. "It turned out to be far more potent – and useful – than anyone ever believed."

"Can I see it?" Jem's voice was the trace of a whisper and sent shivers down my spine.

I blushed. "It's-it's on my back."

He nodded. "Of course," he said with a smile. "How improper that would be." Jem shook his head again, this time as if to clear it. "But that was not what I was speaking of," he continued. "I was only going to ask how you knew of the –" he paused, and I heard his voice carry the hint of a tremor, "of the _yin fen." _

I turned from him, staring out the window.

"Obviously, you do not have to share with me, if you do not want to," he rushed on. "I only thought –"

"No." My voice shook now too. "It's alright." I took a deep breath. "It was my aunt, you see. Yanluo –" Jem took a sharp breath here. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Quite," he said. "Please continue."

"Yanluo has had a grudge against my family for centuries. He began by torturing my aunt; the next year my cousins. I was trained in the healing arts when I visited them, by their neighbors they were often called the Silvertears, for obvious reasons." I stared out the window. "They are all dead now."

"Oh, Lissa, I'm so sorry –"

"Don't be." My voice was like a raindrop, existing for one clear moment before being lost forever. "It's fine. I've been trained – a bit more extensively – than many other of my Nephilim brethren. I have always had a flair for medicine." I attempted a smile. "Now I am the only one left. Me – me and my brother, Joshua. We are the only ones left." My weak grin slid off my face as I realized what I was saying. "Jem, I am the only Morgenstern left!"

Tears run down my face before I can stop them, and all of a sudden Jem is there, saying, "Shh, Lissa, I'm sorry."

"No, Jem, don't be sorry." I gulped for air even as the sobs consumed me. "It's my fault, it's my fault…"

"Lissa." Jem's voice was barely a whisper. "Lissa, stop. _Lissa,_ měilì de_, bùyào kū. Nǐ bùshì yīgèrén, zhǐyào nǐ zhōng yǒu wǒ, zhǐyào nǐ zhōng yǒu wǒ, nǐ yǒu wǒ de ài." _

The soothing sound of Jem's Chinese calmed me. "What does it mean?" I asked, the way I always did.

"It means, _do not cry," _Jem said, though judging by the length of it, it certainly meant more than that. "It means, _do not be sad because I will always be with you." _

"Thank you," I whispered, brushing the tears from my eyes and pushing back the strand of my hair that had come out of their braid. "Thank you, Jem."

* * *

"Yoo-hoo!" Will knocked on the carriage door enthusiastically. "What's going on in there?"

"There's a mess of barnyard animals in here, Will, we'll be right out," I said, grinning at Jem and straitening my gear. "Now, last things first: how do I look?"

Jem smiled shyly. "Lethal," he said. "Here, there's a…" he gestured to a string that had come undone. I turned to let him lace it up, his fingers coming in contact with my bare back. I _did _have a few runes inked on my back, I just hoped Jem wouldn't be looking closely enough. No, of course he wouldn't – it wasn't proper. Out of the three of us, Jem was the most reliable to follow the rules and whatnot.

"Perfect!" I jumped out of the carriage and grinned blindingly at Will.

"Did you swallow some heavenly fire on your way here?" he griped.

"I wouldn't be surprised – my personality is _extremely _angelic, don't you think?" I turned with a swish of my dark ponytail. "Now, come along, boys! We've got a dragon to kill!"

* * *

**I told you it was bad. **

**Hmph.**

**So yeah, this chapter was Lissa in her not-quite-best moment and next chapter we're going to see the fierce warrior girl we all know and love! (I hope). I actually didn't mean to make this chapter like this it just came out and so this happened. I'm really sorry to all who speak Chinese because I used Google translate and we all know what THAT means... but according to Google, what Jem said is really sweet. And it means about half of what I told you (hehe). **

**Read and review even though this wasn't me at my finest! Thank you all for 850 views! (!) **

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	8. A Dragon: Part Two

**Why hello dear readers!**

**Could it be? Another update so soon? Is that a chapter I see?**

**Yes, it is! It is the concluding half of Chapter 7! I must warn you that it's incredibly gory at times and it freaked me out as I was writing it (yeah, I'm weird that way). But I'm proud of it so I will not keep you any longer!**

**Shoo!**

* * *

_London 1877_

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern_

We crept out from behind the old, crumbling building, my hands beginning to fiddle with the weapons belt at my waist. My midnight black gear camouflaged me perfectly with the rest of the night, the moonlight catching my body every so often and lighting up the taut muscles underneath my skin.

This was only the third time that Jem, Will, and I had been allowed out on our own – Thomas or Charlotte or Henry was always with us. But I was confident in our abilities – we were good Shadowhunters, and it was only one demon.

I pulled out a seraph blade and a knife, feeling more comfortable with the shorter blade. Will grinned wickedly as he brandished a long sword, its silver blade glinting in the dark. Jem shook his head at his _parabatai _before finding his own tools: his favored sword, _Cortana, _and a seraph blade.

We advanced slowly, stealthily, before Will broke the silence by saying, "This is pointless. It's a Dragon, right? Shouldn't it be huge?"

I rolled my eyes. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't approach it with caution."

"Forget caution. Throw caution to the wind. Why does it matter?"

"Because we don't want to get our brains fried and our bodies turned to ash," Jem said reasonably, and I nodded in agreement.

"What would we ever tell Charlotte?" I prodded. "Wait, nevermind – she wouldn't care. Proceed, William! Goodbye!"

Jem glared at me. "You're not helping," he said, but there was a smile in his voice.

"I know," I said helpfully, but then grew serious. "But caution or no caution, we're never going to kill this thing if we never find it." _Crunch! _"That would be it now, wouldn't it."

"No, that's just Will," Jem replied lightly, gesturing towards a cursing boy hopping up and down on one foot. "He tried to go ahead and now look at him." I laughed, and Will glared at me from the other side of the street.

"What'd you find?" I asked, approaching him but staying far enough back as to not get stuck in whatever situation he'd wrangled himself into.

"It's _hot!" _Will sputtered finally, shaking a black ember off his boot. It flew across the street and landed in front of me with a _hiss. _

"What is it, though?" I asked, looking down at it curiously.

"It looks like straw," Jem supplied, coming up to me, my head reaching the tip of his shoulder. I looked up at him, confused.

"What do you mean, _straw?"_

"Straw. Like kindling," Jem explained. "It's very dry, and very flammable. A bit like the stuff that birds use to make their nests, except it's all burnt." His eyes widened. "Will, turn around."

Still hopping, Will spun and looked into the dark alley ahead of him. "All I see are three trash cans and more of this black stuff."

"Those aren't trash cans, Will." I'd come to the same realization Jem had. "And Jem was right when he was talking about straw."

Will shook his head. "Have you guys gone insane?"

"Will, get out of there," Jem said slowly. "Unless you want to turn into cinders like everything else."

Will turned a slow circle, coming to face us and grinding to a halt. "Is this…"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "Will, you're not standing in a pile of trash. Those trash cans? They're eggs. You're standing in a Dragon's nest."

"Our demon is a nesting mother," Jem added. "Ten times more ruthless; ten times more dangerous. Their fire is ten times hotter, so it can kindle the eggs before they hatch." Jem shook his head as he looked around the place. "And considering how much straw there is around here, they're almost ready."

* * *

"You three boys!" a shopkeeper came running at us. My face had some of the charred straw dust on it, and Will had scampered out of the mess. "My brand new order of jewelry is all gone! Are you thieves?"

"No, no!" Jem stammered. "But - but we know who might be doing it, sir."

"Are you sure you are not thieves?" the man brandished a necklace at us. It was beautiful, with a round jade stone with a dragon inscribed on its surface as a pendant, and a delicate silver chain the same color as Jem's hair. I gasped.

"How pretty!" my cheeks colored as I remembered that he thought I was a boy, and that I was wearing men's clothes with my hair bound tight. The man gave me an odd look. "For – for a girl I – I – for a girl I wish to court," I finished, the words awkwardly making their way out of their mouth. My cheeks grew redder and I looked down at the ground.

"If you find the rest of my stolen goods," the man continued, peering at me again, "you can have this necklace as payment!" He looked at me conspiratorially. "For that girl," he said with a wink, and Will snorted from next to me.

"Er, thank you, sir!" I tried to make my voice upbeat.

"You'd better find those thieves, boys!" the shopkeeper said, walking across the street into his shop and slamming the door.

"Nice guy, huh?" I offered weakly.

"Ooh, Lissa, you never told us –"

"Oh, shut up, Will!" I snapped, crossing my arms in a huff.

"It's definitely a Dragon, then," Jem said quietly. "They steal valuables and hoard them. It's probably somewhere between those buildings." He gestured to where we'd found the nest.

"Right." I cleared my throat. "Let's go."

We took off through the street, the nest ash burning the soles of our feet. The eggs shook as we approached them, and it was now obvious that they weren't trash cans at all.

"How could you _ever _have thought –"

"Oh, shut up," Will grumbled. "Besides, _you –"_

"Oh, shut up."

"Guys," Jem whispered. "Not to alarm you, but –" A deafening roar drowned out the rest of Jem's sentence, and a jet of red flames shot out above the building ahead of us. "Yeah." He grimaced. "That."

I took a deep breath. "Fantastic." I tried to calm myself and think rationally. "Alright, we need to see it before we can gauge its strengths and weaknesses. Jem, you and I will get the head. Will, try the wings, tail, limbs – anything you can get. Jem, aim for its eyes. I'll get the head and neck. Will, if you can disable enough of it so that you can climb on its back while it's distracted – go ahead and finish it. We'll deal with the eggs when we reach that problem. Hopefully, they'll dissipate back with their guardian once we've killed it."

Surprisingly, the boys don't argue the way they had before. Jem was looking at me with a new sort of trust in his eyes as he said, "Sounds good. Will?"

"Yeah." Will nodded.

"Let's get going then!" We ran towards the flames, weapons raised, and were ready to take this dragon down as a team.

And then it came out.

Our plan had a major flaw.

And that flaw was simple.

It was staring us in the face.

It was that we hadn't planned for the Dragon to have two heads.

"Oh, by the Angel," I muttered. Will held no such restraints, shouting various curses and other creative insults like, "that two-faced oversize maggot!" and "like a lump of earth with a head – wait, no, two heads," and "I bet the only reason it has two is because its brain is so small that it couldn't function with one," and so forth.

The Dragon stared at us appraisingly before opening its mouth wide. A small inferno grew at the back of it, spinning and becoming hotter and larger until –

"Get back!" I interrupted Will's rant to shove him behind a trash can – a _real _one this time.

"In Raziel's name," Jem breathed. "We certainly didn't prepare for _this." _

"No," I agreed. "We didn't." I cleared my head. "Alright, let's stick to the plan. Jem, you've got four eyes now."

"_What?!" _Will jumped. "Stick to the plan? Do you know how big that thing's butt is?"

I rolled my eyes and dragged Will out from behind the flaming trash can.

I was glad that I had Jem by my side. He was in the process of taunting it, trying to coax one of its heads nearer so he could gouge out its eyes, blinding it and leaving it weak and easy to kill. I'd ignited my seraph blade and was targeting its neck, hoping that perhaps I could cut off one of the heads. Unluckily, I'd only succeeded in angering it, but at least this head was entirely focused on me.

I jabbed my sword near its upper ear, hearing a _ccckk! _– the sound of ripping flesh. I grimaced as the pointed, spiky ear fell from the Dragon's head, landing in a black pool of demon ichor, the scaly, crusty red flesh soaking up the thick, gelatinous liquid. The Dragon roared and shot a fireball at me. It was small but hot, and though it missed me by inches, I could feel the heat of it as it passed my sleeve. Off kilter, it shook its head, ichor dripping down the side of its face.

"Yes!" Jem shouted as his head dazedly shot a comet of fire into the air. He thrust his seraph blade into the soft flesh of its neck, causing it to burn, eating up the Dragon's first head and neck. All of a sudden, a flash of light came from behind him, and a weak fireball exploded right next to Jem's feet. He spun around and froze.

Three hatchlings were coming towards him, and they were rapidly growing.

I screamed at the same time Will did: he must've gotten hit. I'd been paying attention to Jem and ignored my head of the Dragon.

"Just take care of them!" I called helplessly as Jem faced the oncoming group.

I hacked at the Dragon's neck that was turned towards me, but Will seemed to be doing just fine without me.

"Lissa, take my place!" he called.

"Of course!" I yelled back, running to the Dragon's side. Its wingspan was huge, probably ten to fourteen feet long. Its right wing was dripping black ichor, running in a stream from the spike at the bottom tip of the Dragon's wing. The aerodynamic flesh of the wing was spongy and soft, and, steeling myself, I brought my seraph blade down on it, causing a roar of pain from the Dragon and a hasty, "Nice job!" from Will.

My blade sputtered out: it had run out of seraphic power. I cursed and threw it aside, exchanging it for the extra Jem had given me. I whispered, "Michael," knowing that the name was far more powerful than the one I'd used before. The blade burned in my hands, even through the hilt.

Suddenly, I heard a string of creative cursing from Will as he threw aside his seraph blade and pulled a knife from his weapons belt. The Dragon blasted the blade right off it, leaving the knife a melted handle in Will's grip. More swearing.

The Dragon opened its mouth, sparks flying out from between his teeth. It widened its maw, allowing the fiery inferno to grow before shooting out a meteor of flames – heading straight towards Will.

_Crack! _The Dragon's entire body arched upwards in pain as the flames shot out of its mouth. The fire missed Will, flying straight over his head and engulfing the three hatchlings as Jem took a step back. Its tail writhed from where I'd just stomped on it.

I grinned. Custom steel-toed boots had their benefits.

I scrambled up the Dragon's back, climbing the scaly red ridges and using the spikes as handholds. I signaled to Will and Jem to make sure they were okay, and once I got an affirmative signal back, I grabbed Michael with both hands and plunged it into the back of the demon. Fire started spreading from the wound, and I yanked my seraph blade out of the demon and slid back down its back.

It truly was a spectacle: the Dragon began to burn, starting from its back, giving the red scales a glossy sheen as it writhed and roared. The fire-breather was consumed with flames; spreading over its thighs, over the stump of the neck Jem had cut off, over the remaining head. It shot one last fireball into the sky, and disappeared.

There was no trace of it: it had gone back to its demonic realm.

Back where it had come from, along with its fledglings. I ran over to Jem, who had picked up my discarded seraph blade.

"That… that was pretty good," Will said, which was a huge compliment coming from him.

I gave him a half-smile. "You weren't so bad yourself." I hugged Jem, standing on my tiptoes so that my head reached the bottom of his chin.

"You were amazing," Jem whispered into my hair.

I smiled into his collarbone. "So were you."

"Ahem." Will gave a dramatic cough. "I believe that Lissa has a gift to pick up for her lady friend." He held up a set of silver and green jewelry, giving me a wicked grin.

"Oh, shut up," I said, but I was smiling.

"Aw, c'mon, Lis," he pleaded. "Plus, _you _were the one who said it was pretty."

"Fine," I relented. The necklace _was _beautiful – and the grumpy old shopkeeper did deserve his stock back. "Let's go."

* * *

"Is it okay if I lean on you?" I asked Jem as we returned to the carriage.

He smiled. "Of course," he said, and I again found myself entranced by his eyes, and how the moonlight reflected beautifully in them.

My eyes closed as soon as we entered the carriage and I was asleep in minutes, despite the bouncing and bumping of our carriage, thoughts of Jem filling my head.

_Perspective Switch: Third Person Limited (Jem Carstairs)_

Lissa was beautiful when she slept, Jem thought. All the hardships of the battle were wiped from her face, the half-moon crescents of her closed eyelids framed by dark lashes. She looked like a little girl.

She looked beautiful.

Jem silently lifted her chin in his hands and kissed her lightly on the forehead. It was a barely-there kiss: just a brushing of lips against her temple. Jem didn't know it, but Lissa was dreaming of him.

"_Nǐ kěnéng zǒng shì yīkào wǒ," _Jem said softly. _You may always lean on me. _Jem took the necklace from his pocket, with its nearly invisible silver chain and jade pendant, and hooked it gently around Lissa's neck. "_Wǒ ài nǐ, Lissiane Morgenstern."_

* * *

**I warned you! But then I added in that cute feelsy bit at the end so please forgive me. **

**Um, I have absolutely no update pattern so I'll see you when I feel inspired! (probably soon)**

**Thanks for reading and giving me 1,000 views and 20 reviews thank you so much you guys are AMAZING!**

**Don't forget to review!  
**

**~TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	9. Aimoure

**Er... hi? **

**So please don't kill me, I know I haven't updated in forever (Jan 29! *cringe, cringe*) and I have no excuses! So this A/N is gonna be short and sweet: Sorry! **

**But luckily for you, this chapter is 6,000+ words and spans 11 whole Microsoft Word pages! (Good God I sound like a cereal commercial. Oops)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern_

_I tiptoed down the hall, hoping no one would hear me. I'd followed Josh – unsuccessfully – for the last few days, trying to see where he disappeared to when he thought no one was watching. I heard him slam the door to somewhere – was that it?_

_It was. The door was still swinging, just barely, and I pounced on the opportunity. I crept up to the door and, once it settled in place, pressed my ear to the cold mahogany wood. _

_It was a room in the Morgenstern mansion that we hardly ever used anymore: towards the back of the extensive house, it had once been a guest bedroom and now was simply a dusty old room with a locked door. A door which, obviously, wasn't locked anymore._

"_Caroline…" that was Josh's voice, husky and low, the voice that so many girls had swooned over, but Josh had never returned their affectionate gestures. _

"_Oh, Joshua," someone replied, and I started: it was Caroline, our ladies maid, in a room alone with Josh, and was she…. _Giggling? _No, I thought, Caroline is much too proper for that. "Joshua, we cannot do this…"_

"_But we can," Josh said, and I opened the door to see him kiss her, and Caroline melted into his arms. I let the door slam and ran down the hallway._

"_Lissa?" Josh was calling for me. "Lissa, where are you?"_

"_In here," I yelled, my voice muffled by the pillow I was leaning into. My door opened with a slight creak, and I looked up. _

"_Lis, it's time for –"_

"_I saw you with Caroline today," I blurted, and Josh froze. _

"_Lis, it's not what you think."_

"_How do you know what I think? What I saw was you having an illegal relationship with a mundane!"_

Smack. _Josh's hand came down hard across my cheek. _

"_Don't you ever, _ever, _call her that," he fumed, his voice deadly. _

"_Josh, you know that the chances of her Ascension are slim," I reminded him. "Why are you giving her this false hope?"_

"_Just because _you _can never love anyone without causing their deaths doesn't mean that I have to follow the same restrictions!" Josh spat. _

"_So you love her," I prodded. "But you will never tell anyone."_

"_Of course." Josh was more careful, his voice tender, when he was speaking of Caroline than when he was arguing with me. _

_I was ten years old. I had just been cursed, and my brother was telling me that I could never love._

_My memory changed to when I was older: thirteen this time. My parents had just been killed. Joshua was sending Caroline away. _

"_How could you do this to her?" I yelled as I paced around the room. "You – you _loved _her! And now you're just sending her away like you don't even care!"_

"_Lissa, how _dare _you speak of me –" Josh's words were fast, low, and furious._

"_How dare _I? _How dare _I? _You really believe that _I _am the one at fault? Well, _Joshua, _I don't see myself sending a thirteen year old girl out of my house as well as my long-time servant – and lover!"_

Smack. _Josh's palm leaves a red mark from the force of his slap._

"_Don't you ever, _ever, _call her that." His face was red with anger, and I was reminded of the time when, three years before, I'd walked in on Joshua and Caroline. He'd been so hopeful then, so young and innocent, defending his love with all he had in him. Now he said, "She is a filthy mundane. I wish to never, _ever, _have her in my presence again."_

_Tears in my eyes, I looked up at him. "You've changed, Josh. You're a different person now."_

"_Get out of my house!"_

"Lissa?" Jem's voice snapped me out of my memory. "Lissa, are you alright?"

"Yeah." I force a weak smile onto my face. "Fine."

"You dropped your hairbrush." Jem pointed to the floor, where the aforementioned brush lay on the ground, its crystalline backing cracked.

"It's not mine," I said as I hurried to pick it up. "It's Jessie's."

Jem gave a short laugh. "Better hide it, then. You know how Jessie gets with her hairbrushes."

I smiled back. "Wouldn't _dream _of telling her," I promised, then – "Jem," I asked, my smile slowly turning itself into a frown, "Why are you here?"

Jem shuffled his feet, almost looking embarrassed. "Perhaps…" he paused. "Would you like to come train with me?"

My face lit up. _Jem _wanted me to train with him! It was probably a friendly offer, but my heart couldn't stop itself from swelling as I said, "Of course." Then it was my turn to be embarrassed. "Jem…"

He frowned and turned back to me, as he was already making his way out the door. "Yes?"

"I'm not ready."

Jem raised one eyebrow. "You _look _ready. You're in gear, your hair… well, I'm not sure when it comes to hair, but it certainly _looks _nice –"

"My stays." The words came out in a rush.

"Pardon?"

"My stays. Can you lace up my stays?" I blushed. "On my back."

Jem looked surprised, but didn't hesitate as he said, "Of course." He came around to the vanity and immediately asked, "Lissa, how in Raziel's name do these things work?"

I laughed, reaching around my back and guiding his fingers towards the right laces. I was sure that we were both blushing wildly by the time he was done, but I simply said, "Thanks," and looked him straight in the eye when he finished.

Jem held out an arm, and I took it, feeling like a lady as he escorted me down to the training room.

* * *

"What first?" Jem asked as we arrived. I surveyed the room, the massive amount of seraphic weapons still making me dizzy, even after four years to get used to it.

"Archery." I'd never told anyone about my secret love for it, but it felt right to do it around Jem.

He turned to me skeptically. "Archery? Lissa, you've never –"

"Don't doubt me." I grinned and shushed him. "Watch." I picked up my favorite bow, a sleek model with a wooden grip, and nocked an arrow. I spun around, pointed my bow at the target, and – _woosh. _The arrow flew past my cheek and landed with a _thud _in the center of the target. Well, close to the center, anyway. I cursed the arrow under my breath as I turned to Jem.

"I never thought anything but the best of you," he proclaimed with a smile. "But how –?"

"I have my means and ways," I said mysteriously, then laughed. "I got up early every morning for the last year to practice."

"The last _year?" _Jem seemed shocked. "I never knew –"

"Eh." I shrugged. "Do you remember the time when Jessie wanted to take me shopping, Will called me an ugly pig, you tried to stand up for me and Will threw custard into my hair?"

"He was fourteen!" Jem tried to defend his _parabatai. _"I don't believe his actions were reasonable, but do you _still _have a grudge against him for that?"

I grinned. "I'm incredibly good at holding grudges. But no, I've forgiven him. I just brought it up because that was the first time I came down here and picked up a bow."

Jem smiled. "You've been doing this for two years, then?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He laughed. "You never cease to amaze me, Lissiane." I shivered at Jem's use of my full name.

"You're a pretty amazing person yourself, James."

Jem held out his hand, and I took it. "I thought we'd come down here to train, not talk."

"Of course," I agreed. "Lead the way."

* * *

I pushed back damp hair from my sweaty brow as Jem guided my hand on the knife for the umpteenth time.

"Jem, we've been working on this for hours!" I complained. "I can throw a knife perfectly well; I don't need all this extra practice!"

Jem's eyes were steely as he looked down at me, but something on my face must've told him that I was serious. He softened.

"Alright," he said. "Go to Agatha and ask her for a glass of water – one for me too." He wiped his forehead and I realized that our training must've drained him more than he was letting on.

"Do you need –?"

"_Yin fen? _No, I'll be alright," Jem said with a smile. "Water will be just fine."

I smiled back at him. "Thanks, Jem."

"When you get back, it's a lost form of Chinese martial arts!" he teased, his eyes lighting up again in the way that I was used to. This was my Jem – in every way that he smiled, laughed, spoke, cried. In the pores of his skin and the smell of sweat and _yin fen – _this was my Jem.

"Be prepared!" I returned the jest as I skipped out of the training room.

I ran down the halls of the Institute, running my hands along the walls until I came to the kitchen.

"Will?" Agatha asked when she heard me arrive. "Will, I've made a new batch of –"

"It's Lissa!" I called. Agatha perked up from the back of the kitchen and wiped her hands on a dirty apron.

"Lissiane!" she cooed. "You never come down here anymore," she chided. "You used to be here all the time with Will. Eat all my chocolate, too." She smiled.

"Sorry." Guilt twists my stomach. It's true: I _haven't _been down in the kitchens lately.

"You didn't even see when I put stones in your porridge!" she exclaimed.

"Agatha!" Then we're laughing, and it's the way it used to be.

"It's okay. I know you're very busy with Master Jem," she said with a knowing smile.

"How –?"

Her grin widened. "I know things, even when you're not around to tell me."

I smiled back at her. "On that note, would you mind getting some water for Jem and me?"

"Of course!" Agatha hurried to the back of the kitchens, opening up cabinets and removing two glasses with a _clink. _The sweet sound of rushing water hit my ears as she filled them up.

"Here you go," Agatha said. "Have fun!"

"Thanks, Agatha!" I accepted the glasses gratefully, resisting the urge to drink one and pour the other over my head. The glasses were slick in my sweaty hands and slid around as I walked down the hallway, the water sloshing in the glasses at every step. The training room was not too far from the kitchens, and I reached the heavy double doors in no time.

"Jem?" I called, pressing my forehead to the cool wood. "Can you open the doors?"

There was no response. _That's odd, _I thought, trying to beat down the butterflies of worry beginning to flutter in my stomach. "Jem!" I shifted the second glass to the crook of my arm and grasped the shiny metal doorknob. "I can't believe you, you're always the –" I stopped. A glass slipped out of my hand and shattered on the floor, the water gushing out on the hardwood planks.

"James." My voice was a shaky whisper as I set the other glass on a table as to focus entirely on Jem. Three knives were embedded in the target ahead of him, a fourth on the floor next to Jem.

I blinked back tears as I stared, unable to do anything. My heart beat frantically in my chest, and I finally found the ability to move and speak again.

Jem was sprawled unconscious on the floor, a fine spray of blood on the ground next to him. He _had _needed _yin fen, _but hadn't said anything about it before. _Oh, Jem. _I found myself next to him, shaking his shoulder. He was usually so much taller than me, slight and lanky in all his Shadowhunting glory. I'd always considered him strong, that his illness was simply something that he was dealing with in his own way, and that it never hindered him in any way. I'd seen him ill, of course – but never this bad. It was always Will who sat with him in his worst nights, not letting me come in. Charlotte had found me multiple times slumped against Jem's door, relieving me from my vigil that I'd kept all night long.

But I'd never doubted Jem would make it.

Not until tonight.

"Will!" I screamed, and realized my voice was hoarse. I'd been screaming for a while – for what or who, I didn't know. "Will! Charlotte! _Charlotte!" _

Panic rose in my chest. Was Jem dying? The Silent Brothers hadn't been here for a while. They – they were supposed to come today, weren't they? Would they get here in time? Oh, the irony – the Nephilim who were supposed to _save _Jem would get here when it was too late. _"Will!" _I shrieked. _"Will! Charlotte!" _I coughed. My voice was raspy, and I was shouting at random. _"Henry! Jessie!" _

Someone burst into the room. "Lissa –"

"Will, thank the Angel." I breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't know what happened – I was just getting water – he was like this when I came back – is he okay, Will? – I've never seen him this bad – _It was just a glass of water, Will, how could this happen? – _Will, I'm so sorry – he can't – he can't –"

"Shhh." Was Will soothing me? "Calm down. What happened? Tell me – reasonably. Deep breaths, Lis, just tell me."

I took a shaky breath. "I don't know – we were training and I went to get some water – and I came back and he was like this – _I don't know, Will, I don't know! – _Will he be okay? Please, Will, please." I was sobbing into Will's chest. This was the first time I'd ever depended on him – for anything, really, it was Jem and I who had the bond. "Please, Will, please." I hated being weak, but I hated not knowing that Jem was okay more – I had been reduced to this mess, this sobbing, tiny mess of a girl who had never been able to tell the only boy she'd ever cared for that she loved him.

_Don't think like that, _I scolded myself. _Jem's going to be okay. _That could be my mantra. _He'll be okay, he'll be okay. _

"It's alright, Lis," Will said quietly. "Brother Enoch just arrived – he and Charlotte will be down here any minute."

I jerked away from him, sure there was a mad light in my eyes. "Don't let them see me like this. I can't. I – just give me a minute, Will." I wiped my eyes, truly looking at Will for the first time. "You're in gear. Why are you in gear?"

"Mundane deaths." Will waved his hand as if it was no big deal. "Remember that double _oboros _knife you and I found with Jem? It's got some leads." He flashed a wicked grin. This was good. Easy subjects. Safe subjects. Factual subjects that had nothing to do with whether Jem lived or died.

"Oh? What's going on, then?"

"The Dark Sisters." Will's eyes gleamed. "And I heard that –"

The doors burst open again, this time revealing Charlotte and Enoch. I hoped that I looked presentable, but the sight of the Brother almost sent me to tears again.

"By the Angel," Charlotte whispered, and I turned away from her, jutting my chin towards the ceiling, and blinked away tears.

"He'll be alright," I said, trying to keep my voice from wavering. As if I was trying to convince Charlotte of this more than myself.

_Do not be so sure, _Brother Enoch reprimanded in my mind. _His illness does not leave him with much time. _This was the final straw.

"I'm _not _sure!" I screamed at him. "I'm _not _sure at all and this is the only way that I can convince myself! That all your little attempts and fancy little levitation tricks _aren't _for nothing! _You _never do anything for Jem except hover over him and tell us that he's going to _die!" _My fists were clenched and my chest heaved, as if I'd just been running. "And you're telling me that _I _can't have any reassurance? You – you _monster!" _

"Lissa –" Will started.

"We're all just standing here, making small talk, and this could be Jem's last day! We need to _do _something – we need to –"

It was almost a relief when Will knocked me unconscious.

* * *

_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: Third Person Limited (William Herondale)_

Lissa was unconscious. Jem was – well, Will didn't know. He _seemed _to be breathing at the moment, and that was all Will was asking for – for Jem to keep on breathing.

The Silent Brother regarded Will, his hooded face impassive – or at least Will assumed it would be impassive, but he couldn't actually _see _it.

"Don't thank me, don't scold me," Will said, holding up a hand. He shrugged. "Just – just save my _parabatai _and I might forgive you for driving Lissa mad."

Will shrugged off Charlotte's disappointed – and very annoyed – gaze as he picked up Lissa's limp form. "Right." He cleared his throat. "Where should I…?"

_Come, _Brother Enoch said into Will's mind. Will followed, trying his hardest not to look over at Jem's fragile, levitating body. Charlotte gave Will a reproving glare and followed Enoch out of the room.

The procession was solemn, and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. No one spoke, and the door to the training room thudded behind them, leaving a fine red spray of blood on the floor, two abandoned knives, and a shattered glass of water.

Will remembered the last time he'd carried Lissa – Jem had been ill again, he remembered, and she'd been burning up with fever as Jem's symptoms subsided. Will recalled the lie he'd told to Charlotte, and the relief on Lissa's face when she realized that he hadn't given her away.

That was the day that Will had voiced his suspicions about her being cursed. That was the day he'd almost given himself away – spoken of his curse.

They really _were _similar, Will thought wryly, even in denial of that very fact. He loved her like a sister, Will realized, looking down at her with a smile. He hoped that she would never love him like a brother.

Brother Enoch lay Jem down in his bed. If Lissa were awake, she would've been hovering over him, making sure that Jem was alright. Will cleared his throat, causing Charlotte to notice that he was still there.

"Yes?"

"Lissa," Will explained. "Where should I, I don't know, put her?"

Charlotte sent him an annoyed look. "In her room, William. It's right across the hall."

Will nodded and stepped out, crossing the hallway and entering Lissa's chambers. They had the same basic outline as all the other rooms in the Institute, but were much neater than Will's. He spread out the much smaller girl on the bed, and stood awkwardly, wondering if there was anything else to do. Lissa stirred gently, and Will jumped back, hoping that he wouldn't seem like some sort of stalker.

Lissa blinked, and opened her eyes. "Will," she said immediately. "What in Raziel's name are you doing in my room?"

"Watching you sleep," Will replied, his defenses of sarcasm and wit rising.

"Right. Creeper." Lissa flashed him a grin to show she was kidding, but her face crumpled a moment later. _"Jem." _

"He's alright," Will hurried to assure her. "He's with Enoch."

Lissa glared at him, and climbed off the large bed, still in her training gear. Gritting her teeth, though Will didn't know why, she turned the knob, only to face Charlotte.

"No visitors," the Head of the Institute informed her. Lissa's glare deepened.

"Are you –"

"Yes," Charlotte said firmly. "No visitors. None. Brother Enoch must tend to James alone."

Lissa called Brother Enoch something that made Charlotte's eyes widen and open her mouth to scold the girl, but Lissa stalked away before she could say anything. Will shrugged helplessly as Charlotte's gaze slid to him, and started walking to the library, in hope of comfort.

* * *

_Perspective: Lissiane Morgenstern_

I was fuming, and a haze of pain clouded my thoughts, which probably didn't help. I stormed away from Charlotte – away from Jem – and found myself at the music room. The doorknob was cold, and I fled from the place that held too many good memories – memories of violin lessons, and Jem teaching me bits of Chinese – so that I wouldn't darken it with whatever memories today would cause.

Which was how I found myself at the library. This was always Will's favorite place, I thought. Maybe we really were alike.

I pushed open the heavy doors and saw – what a surprise – Will himself, sitting in an armchair and reading.

"Hey." Will looked up at the sound of my voice. I forced a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Watching you read," I said, echoing his earlier words. Will gave me a tiny smile.

"But in all honesty," Will said seriously. "Why are you here?"

"I'm not sure." The words came out in a rush. "I'm not sure about anything anymore, Will. But you don't care, do you?" I smiled sadly. "You shouldn't. But the big question is –" Will tensed "– can you get me something to read?"

He relaxed. "Sure." He lead me through the endless maze that was the Institute's library, offering me book after book, each of which I declined with a "No," or "No way," or "Absolutely not!" The ones I turned down firmly tended to be Will's favorite.

"Alright," he said finally, hefting a book bound in blue leather. _"The Shadowhunter's Codex." _

"The _Codex?" _I asked skeptically.

"Yes. It's the only other book that you might even think about finding interesting."

I accepted it, glancing at him. "If it's awful –"

"– it's all my fault." Will laughed. "I know."

I shot him a grateful smile, finding my own armchair, and began to read.

The _Codex _was dreadfully dull, and I'd read it many times before, but I continued. Demons, fighting styles, the Accords – it was all in there. A how-to guide on being a Shadowhunter, I supposed. My eyes were growing heavy as I neared the end – _The Angel Raziel, in his generosity, had two more gifts for Jonathan Shadowhunter. _

I yawned. _The first was the gift of _adamas, _the heavenly crystal that glowed with heavenly fire, that could not be cut or carved by mundane means, and the secrets of whose working could be found only in the Gray Book, _the _Codex _told me.

Something creaked, like doors opening. _This chair is really comfortable, _I thought sleepily. My eyes drifted shut, and then –

"Jem is awake." It was Charlotte. My eyes snapped open and I sat straight up in the armchair.

"Can I go see him?" I asked immediately.

Charlotte frowned sympathetically. "Brother Enoch still allows no visitors."

"Then why'd you tell us Jem's awake?" Will protested.

"I thought you two might appreciate the – the change in situation." Charlotte's voice wavered, and I realized that she was probably as nervous as us about this whole ordeal.

"Of course we do," I soothed her. "But it doesn't change that we can't see him," I muttered under my breath.

"Thank you, Charlotte," Will said icily, turning back to his book.

I did the same.

Charlotte took the hint, and left.

In a few more minutes I'd reached the end of the _Codex,_ and since I didn't know my way around the library, simply sat in the armchair, deep in thought. My thumb absently rubbed the page that connected the book to its bindings as I wondered if I'd have the heart to ask Will for another book.

_Ccck! _With an awful ripping noise, the page tore away from the leather cover. I winced; Will wouldn't be happy with me and neither would anyone else who happened to read the _Codex _after me. In a vain attempt to smooth down the paper, I realized that it hadn't ripped at all, merely come free from another sort of binding. It was as if only some of the paper had been glued to the back cover.

Curiously, I tore the rest of the glued strip away, leaving the paper to flap in the slight breeze caused by the open window. And, lo and behold – there it was! Another section of _The Shadowhunter's Codex. _

A section that, if I was right, no one had ever seen before.

I creased the paper down, revealing the entire page. There were all sorts of new runes that I'd never even seen before – runes that allowed you to warp gravity, some new rune that said it could only be used for a Portal – whatever that was. Scanning the page, one caught my eye.

It was a swirling rune, hinting at the shape of a heart. Its title read, _the Rune of Common Love. _In the language of the Angels, it is an _Àimoure, _the description informed me.

_An _aimoure _must be applied on a pair of interlaced hands. It has no effects, but like a rune of marriage, it symbolizes everlasting love. An _aimoure _will never fade, unlike a _parabatai _rune, if one of the two partners dies or becomes a Silent Brother/Iron Sister. The only way an _aimoure _will fade is if the common love that binds the two fades._

_An _aimoure _can be a symbol of friendship, since there is a strong common love between any two friends. The _aimoure _can be used as a symbol of romantic union, however, it is most commonly used among friends. _

My mind shot to Jem immediately. I slammed the _Codex _shut and tucked it under my arm. I jumped up from the chair, startling Will, who asked, "Where on Earth are you going?"

"To see Jem," I replied breathlessly.

"But Charlotte said –"

"Oh, when has that ever stopped you?"

Will shut up and let me go. I practically ran to the entrance of the library and flung open the doors, leaving the musty smell of books and entering the brightly lit hallway. My feet carried me down to Jem's room, where Charlotte stood, waiting.

"Lissa, I've told you multiple times –"

"Please, Charlotte?" I begged. "Just this once."

"No," Charlotte said firmly.

"Please, Charlotte, please?" I repeated. "It'll be really short – I swear! Just let me in – please!"

Charlotte's eyes softened, but she held her resolve. "Brother Enoch still allows no visitors."

"Charlotte!" I pleaded. "You know I won't do anything – I swear on the Mortal Sword that I won't exert him!"

I could see the internal battle raging inside her. Luckily for me, Charlotte was a kindhearted woman. "Alright," she relented. "But no more than five minutes."

"Thank you!" I said breathlessly. Charlotte stepped aside and I entered the room.

Jem was lying down, but his eyes were open. His silvery eyes locked on mine as I entered. "Lissa," he said pleasantly. "You have an odd habit of barging in on me when I am –" Jem broke off in a fit of coughing, but waved me away when I started for the _yin fen _box. "I'm fine," he said with a weak smile. "Really."

I muttered a few doubtful syllables under my breath, but then remembered my five-minute time limit. "Jem," I said seriously. "Have you read the _Codex?" _

He looked surprised. "Of course; haven't we all?"

"Did you ever see this?" I pulled the book out from under my arm and opened it to the secret section I'd discovered. Jem's eyes widened as his eyes scanned the page.

"Look," he said, pointing to the bottom. My heart skipped a beat. "The _aimoure." _

I nodded. "The Rune of Common Love." I hoped that my blush wasn't too obvious.

Jem held out his hand. "Would you like to do it?" he asked tentatively.

"The rune?" I asked in surprise. He nodded. "The _aimoure?" _He nodded again.

"I'd love to – ah, that is to say, yes."

Jem smiled and placed his hand in mine. My hand, cold from the temperature of the library, and his, hot and feverish and entirely real. I drew out my _stele _and began to copy the rune from the back of the _Codex. _My heart thumped nervously and frantically in my chest, but the rune was the easiest I'd ever done, practically drawing itself as it snaked across our hands.

"Done," I breathed finally, ignoring the sting of the freshly applied rune.

Jem smiled at me. _"Wo ai ni, Lissiane Morgenstern," _he whispered, and though I knew he meant it in a friendly, platonic sort of way, it sent shivers down my spine.

"_Wo ai ni, James Carstairs." _

We sat in silence for a moment or two, our breaths timed and even. Our faces were inches away from each other, his nose almost – but not quite – touching mine. Jem broke away from me, his body raced with convulsions as he coughed. I picked up a glass of water and sprinkled in a fair amount of _yin fen, _ignoring Jem's weak protests.

I swore softly under my breath. "I wish I could _kill _whoever did this to you," I said, handing him the cup.

Jem looked up at me, surprised. "You don't know?"

I shook my head. "You never told me, so I never asked."

"It was back in Shanghai, when my father still ran the Institute," Jem began, closing his eyes. "I was twelve. My parents had angered a Greater Demon – Yanluo." I tensed, but Jem didn't notice. "As a sort of vengeance, it came to our Institute. It tortured me with great amounts of demon poison – the _yin fen _that I am dependent on now." Jem's voice was a sweet, serene calm compared to the story he was telling. "Yanluo made my parents watch." He paused. "And then he killed them." Each of Jem's words is like a raindrop, clear and concise, falling out of his mouth and onto the ground, disappearing into the sea of words. "By the time people had come to help, they couldn't wane me off the drug. I was dying. I _am _dying," he corrected himself. "That is why I take the _yin fen," _he finished. "It is not a particularly grand story, but it is mine, and I wished to tell it to you."

My anger clouded my mind, the white-hot hatred making it hard for me to even see straight.

"Lissa?" Jem questioned mildly. "Are you alright?"

"No," I spat. "It was bad enough when it was just my parents, Jem, but knowing Yanluo killed yours too, and is killing you every day of your life – I just can't _take _it! And knowing that he's still out there, still killing people every day, making them suffer –"

"Your parents?" Jem interrupted.

I blinked. "Did I not tell you?"

Jem shook his head, wincing at the movement.

"They were sent by the Clave to get rid of it," I said softly, losing myself to the memory. "They were gone for a week. When they were supposed to return, all that I received was the message that they were dead." I smiled wanly. "I promised my revenge that night." I paused, then said, "My brother banished me from the mansion within a fortnight. Charlotte agreed to take me in. So I came to the Institute – and, ah, you know the rest."

"I'm sorry," he said, and I recalled the first time I'd had that conversation with him, thinking that his apology was so much more sincere than anyone else's.

That was because it was.

Now I knew why.

Seeing Jem so helpless lit a new spark inside of me. "I promised my revenge then," I hissed, as Jem looked up in confusion. "I'm going to get it _now." _

"Lissa, you can't!" he exclaimed as what I said began to sink in.

"I_ can," _I said simply.

"Grown Nephilim haven't been able to kill it," Jem argued. "What makes you think that you can?"

"I have motivation," I replied. "I've had motivation since I was thirteen. Now I simply have a bit more. Quite a bit more." I got up from my crouched position and made for the doorway.

"Lissa, wait –"

I turned, seeing Jem lying there, his silvery hair and eyes beautiful, so beautiful, and I paused.

"Jem," I said softly. "If I die –"

"Don't say that," he growled, as fiercely as I'd ever heard him say anything. "You aren't going to die. I know I can't stop you from going, but I also know that you're not going to let one demon stop you from coming back." He smiled. "You're Lissiane Morgenstern. You can do anything."

Hearing him say that he had faith in me drove my determination even further. I smiled back, hoping that it wouldn't be the last one we'd ever share. My hand slipped off the doorknob and I knelt by his bedside again.

"Before I go," I whispered. "I forgot to say thank you."

"For what?"

"Something you gave me a few years ago." I smiled.

"What was it?"

"This." I leaned in, our faces inches apart, and then closer. Jem tilted his head just so, and I knew he was accepting what I was about to give him.

My lips touched his, gently, like a feather drifting gently to the ground. He was sweet, the same way I'd remembered, of the _yin fen _and perspiration from our training exercise. Everything around me was silver, the same silver – the same beautiful silver – that was Jem. My Jem. My beautiful James Carstairs.

Finally, I broke off and ran my fingers through his hair, something I'd wanted to do for so long.

"Lissa," he breathed gently, taking my hand. _"Nǐ zhēnměi," _he said after a pause.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

Jem merely smiled. _"Mizpah, _Lissiane Morgenstern," he said instead. _"Mizpah." _

After I left Jem's room, I raced across the hall to mine, picking up a bag and some of my favorite weapons. My next stop? The training room. Apologizing to Charlotte – mentally, of course – I combed through knives, swords, and other things until I found my bow. Grabbing that, a splendid array of arrows, and some other lethal components, I tore down the hallway and to the front of the Institute.

I slung the deadly parasol Henry had given me over my shoulder and checked around. There was no one there.

_Good, _I thought as I made my way to the stables. I clucked my tongue, alerting my horse, Sleipnir, named after a legendary horse in Norse mythology, to come out.

Sleipnir nuzzled against my palm as I fed him some oats from a nearby stall.

"C'mon, boy," I urged, saddling him up.

Dragging a stepstool so that I could mount the massive, muscular horse, I heard something. I froze, then listened for it again. Nothing. _Just your imagination, _I told myself.

I squeezed my legs, and Sleipnir began to trot, his hooves clicking against the pavement. I passed the Institute doors, and checked again to see that no one was there.

The doors were open.

_I didn't leave them open! _I panicked. _Did I? _I rode Sleipnir up to the doors, ready to dismount. From inside the Institute, I heard someone say, "I'll get the carriage ready."

Who was it? I turned to go, hoping that whoever it was wouldn't see me. Unfortunately for me, the Institute doors creaked open wider and someone stepped out.

I urged Sleipnir faster, but there was only so much one horse could do.

"Where are you going?" the figure called, and I turned around in defeat. My eyes widened. Dressed in gear, armed with a witchlight and a sword, ready to embark on some sort of mission – and stopping _me _from embarking on mine – was Will Herondale himself.

* * *

**There's a nice little Jissa moment for you!**

**I hope it made up for the wait (it probably didn't, but whatever) and that you liked it!**

**And WOW guys, 1500+ views! You're amazing! And we're almost to 30 reviews eek! This is surpassing my wildest dreams and expectations!**

**Oh, and sorry about the cliffhanger. I'm planning on revealing Lissa's curse in this next chapter (or at least some of it). **

**Yes, I know her curse didn't have too much of an effect in this chapter, but I don't know, loopholes? Whatever. **

**So much for the short A/N.**

**See you later &amp; don't forget to review!**

**~Ivy, aka TheEpitomeOfBibliophile**


	10. Yanluo

**Why hello, my dear readers! Is it true? Another chapter? **

**Yes! Yes it is! The long awaited chapter ten!**

**Since I have two multichapter stories, I'm going to update less, but I'm still going to update, don't worry!**

**Hurrah for the first double-digit chapter!**

* * *

"_Where are you going?" the figure called, and I turned around in defeat. My eyes widened. Dressed in gear, armed with a witchlight and a sword, ready to embark on some sort of mission – and stopping _me_ from embarking on mine – was Will Herondale himself._

Sleipnir balked, almost begging me to turn and run. The horse hated Will for unknown reasons – or perhaps not so unknown reasons – this is Will we are talking about, but I started leading him, slowly, towards the Institute.

"Where are you going?" Will called again, sounding more curious this time.

"I'm leaving," I yelled back at him.

"Then why are you coming towards the Institute?" Will asked as I stopped Sleipnir at the steps. I dismounted, keeping a hand tightly gripping the reins so that he wouldn't run away.

"Because I want to know what _you're _doing," I said calmly, walking up to him.

Will shrugged. "To the Dark Sisters," he replied. "Remember?" I did remember, now, and nodded. "What're you doing? Hunting down the demon that cursed you?"

I tensed, remembering how close Will was to the truth. "Your mind seems to be on curses lately, Mister Herondale," I said lightly. "What possibly could give you the idea that I was cursed by a demon?"

"Lis, I _know _you were," Will said in a low tone.

"Sure you do," I replied, still playing the picture of nonchalance. Internally, my heart was beating wildly, feeling as if it would burst out of my chest.

"I know that you were," Will repeated. "Because I was."

I was wrong. My heart didn't burst out of my chest, nor did it continue to thump like a million soldiers trampling me.

It just stopped completely.

_Will was cursed. _

"What –" my voice came out hoarse, and I cleared it. "What was it?"

Will sent a deadly gaze my way, but took a deep breath and began to speak. "Anyone," he began, "who looks upon me with love, or affection, will die." The words hung in the air for a moment, and then I laughed.

It was so notoriously simple: you love Will, you die. He was so _lucky _that all he had to do was put on a show of unpleasantness – and he did it quite well.

Will's look darkened further. _If looks could kill, _I thought, then sobered. In Will's case, they could.

"Is this a game to you?" Will asked venomously. "Is my curse _funny _to you, does it bring you amusement, you _sadist?" _

I looked him straight in the eye. "No, Will," I said softly. "You're lucky."

"Lucky?!" he exploded. _"Lucky?! _You don't know what's happened because of this curse, my sister _died _because of this curse and I had to leave my family and come here just so that they would stay alive–"

"You don't know my curse," I said quietly, my faint words like knives through the air. "Imagine, Will, what it would be like to feel the pain of everyone around you, every day, no matter the circumstances. Imagine what it would be like, Will, if someone you cared about was injured – just a _tiny _cut – and you had to worry about everyone in the room dying. Imagine being a prisoner in your own home – literally – isolated so that everyone wouldn't end up dead."

"I know what it's like to be a prisoner in my own home," Will growled.

I raised one eyebrow. "Do you now?" I asked venomously. "Do you really know what it's like to have three people drag you, kicking and screaming, to a locked, empty room prepared exactly for that purpose? Will, we had a prison cell in our house. And my parents did not hesitate to get me out of the picture. Don't turn this into a pity contest, Will, because I can quite easily win."

Will looked down. "So you can feel the pain of others," he mumbled. "And how does that kill everyone?"

I sighed. "Well, you know how when you have a glass and you shake it, the water sloshes inside the cup and makes these waves?"

"What does that have to do with –"

"Do you?" I repeated.

"Yes."

"Do you know how the waves get bigger until they slosh over the side of the cup?"

"Yes…"

"Imagine that as the pain overwhelming the central nervous system – that's your brain – until it can no longer function and stops your heart."

"What?" Will shook his head. "Are you telling me that –"

"People are literally dying because it's too painful? Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," I replied.

Will's eyes widened, but he held his ground. "How do you know that will happen?" he asked, as if daring me to prove it.

"Because it has," I said simply. "I was eleven years old. There was a young girl and her brother who were playing in a pond near my house. I wanted to play with them." I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the memory. "Their parents were watching from a bench a few meters away. I thought that perhaps we could become friends." I stopped altogether.

"What happened?" Will asked, his voice impossible gentle. For a moment, I could pretend he was Jem.

"The boy got cut on a rock," I continued. "I'd allowed myself to care for them, hope that we could get to know each other." I steeled myself as I kept on reliving the memory. "The entire family was dead in five minutes. No one knew what killed them – I was just a little girl, unarmed and sobbing. Only my family knew of my curse, and they locked me up, almost allowing no human interaction for the next year. And then, of course, they were killed by Yanluo."

"I'm sorry," Will whispered. "Lis, I'm so sorry."

I shrugged. "I just bore up. You have to."

"I'm sure you have a good reason for this," Will said slowly. "But what about just giving the boy an _iratze?" _

"Cursed as well," I replied resignedly. "My _iratzes _work at double the pace, but triple the amount of pain that goes along with the wound. It gets more painful as it heals, not less. It works the same for anyone who puts an _iratze _on me – except they take my pain – literally – and that creates the wave effect."

Will nodded. "Yanluo…" he said softly, changing the subject. "You know it was the one who killed Jem's parents, correct?"

I nodded.

"It's in London."

My heart stopped again.

"C-clarify?" I choked.

"Yanluo," Will said slowly. "Is in London. Here. Now. This city."

"In Raziel's name, Will," I warned. "This had _better _not be a joke."

"I swear, Lissa." Will sounded annoyed. "But what were you doing on Sleipnir?"

"Hunting down Yanluo," I answered without a moment's hesitation.

"You thought it was in China!" Will protested.

"Yes," I agreed, raising both my eyebrows since I was still unable to raise one, "And?"

Will sputtered, "This isn't just about Jem, is it?"

"No," I said softly. "This is my revenge on the demon who cursed me, killed my parents, and turned my brother into a monster who refused to house me in my own home. This is revenge for both of us, Will. Where is he?"

"Charlotte said he was last seen near Blackfriar's Bridge," Will reported tentatively. He knew I was deadly serious, and that I would leave as soon as I got my information.

"Thank you," I said quietly, then – "Will."

"Yes?"

"I might die," I continued calmly. "If I die, tell Jem that my only regret was –"

The door of the Institute creaked open.

"Lissa, go!" Will hissed.

I jumped on Sleipnir's back and regretfully cracked the whip against his side. I loved that horse, but now I just needed him to _speed up. _

I heard Charlotte saying something to Will as Sleipnir and I melted into the night, becoming one with the dark shadows of London.

* * *

_Blackfriar's Bridge, _I thought coyly. _How ironic. _It was Jem's favorite place in London. If I succeeded tonight, it would become mine, too. If I didn't… well, then I'd just have to hope that Jem would come back to remember me.

_Sleipnir, go! _I mentally urged the horse. _Go, go, go! _We couldn't ride fast enough as Sleipnir galloped through the shady streets. Carriages and people and stores alike turned into a blur as Sleipnir and I sped through the streets at almost superhuman speed. We were almost there – closer, closer, _so close – _when Sleipnir abruptly stopped.

"No!" I screamed, slapping his side. "No, no, _no!" _That's when I realized that his flank was heaving and his breathing was labored. I couldn't ride the horse any longer, not without killing him.

And I wasn't quite cruel enough to do that.

"Alright, boy," I coaxed, leading Sleipnir into an alleyway, "C'mere. That's right, follow me…" I tethered his reigns to a lamppost and backed away, whispering, "Go on, boy. Go to sleep, good job…"

As soon as I made it out of the alley, I inked on an extra agility rune and two speed runes, and ran like my life depended on it. Who knew: maybe it did.

Blackfriar's bridge drew closer, closer, until it was in sight. I doubled over when the grey peaks of the bridge came into view, but knew I had to keep running.

Gasping for breath in the cool night air, I forced my tired, burning legs to keep moving. One foot in front of the other, and again, and again, and again…

An inhuman roar sounded from one of the alleyways near the bridge, and I started in surprise. _What was that? _I wondered, my reflexes slow. The noise came again, along with screams – high-pitched and young screams.

_Yanluo. _

"I swear, in Raziel's name," I shouted to the sky, "this will be the last kill Yanluo will _ever _make!"

Something above rumbled – which might've been Raziel confirming my request, laughing at me, or just the signs of an oncoming storm. I sighed, and grabbed my weapons of choice – a dagger and a longsword.

The scene was gruesome – blood was scattered on the wall of each building, tiny bits of who knows what – was it flesh? I didn't want to think about it – strewn across the floor.

The screams had stopped.

All that was left of the victim was a small card, which drifted to the battleground on butterfly wings. I caught it and flipped it over with two fingers. The only readable part of the card were the words, _love, z – _and the rest of the signature was cut off.

I screamed in frustration, anger clouding my head and turning my vision white. "Yanluo, you coward, you _idiot! _Come out here and fight me so you can _die _like you were supposed to all those years ago! Why don't you just –"

"Lisssa," a smooth, velvety voice said from behind me. "Lisssa _Morgenstern." _It elongated the 'm' until it sounded as if there were five of them.

"Yanluo," I hissed, turning around slowly.

The demon was a sight: pitch black like the dead of night, its glowing orange eyes the colour of dying embers left in a fire. I couldn't distinguish the surroundings from the demon until a red, forked, snaky tongue flickered its way out between shining white fangs.

Its mouth spread into something that could almost be recognizable as a smile. "Come to offer yourssself?"

I ignored the question. "I'm going to kill you," I threatened, "Or die trying."

Yanluo's smile grew. "Pesssky little Nephilim," it hissed. "I sssuppossse I will have to kill _you, _then." Yanluo bared its gleaming ebony claws and prepared to pounce, but what it didn't expect was me: lunging forward, seraph blade outstretched, and plunging it deep into the demon's chest.

It turned out the stupid thing didn't have a heart. Once I realized this, I yanked the bloody seraph blade upwards to simply decapitate it, but the demon was ready this time. It swept me off my feet in one swift motion, sending me flying across the alleyway. I flailed wildly, trying to control my descent, and hit the ground with a heavy _thud. _

I scrambled back up and charged, years and years of pent-up anger clouding my thoughts and my vison and _everything – _there was just me and the demon and the fight.

Breathing heavily, I screamed as I ran at the demon again. It sidestepped easily, and I whirled on it. I paused, my chest heaving, to strategize. I cleared my head, knowing that all this pain I was carrying had to be converted to _logic – _logic had to drive me, not anger.

As the feeling ebbed, I discarded my burnt out seraph blade and picked up another, whispering, "Michael," and watching as the blade blazed up in a fierce white light.

Unfortunately, Yanluo also had time to recuperate. I heard its footsteps behind me a moment too late, and screamed as its claws shredded my gear and raked down my back. Small grunts came from behind me – was it _laughing? _

The anger blazed up in me again, and I threw a knife straight for its chest, forgetting the whole it-doesn't-have-a-heart part of the deal. The demon merely stumbled backwards, hitting the wall. It bared its fangs at me again and started to charge.

And then it stopped.

Started again.

Struggled a bit.

And _stopped. _

I laughed aloud, a short, brittle, laugh of pure relief. _It was stuck! _Grabbing two more knives from my weapons belt, I spun them in rapid succession towards its arms, watching as they, too, were pinned to the brick wall.

Yanluo roared from behind me as I pulled out my last two knives. _Pop! _One of its arms were free. Praying to Raziel, I threw the knives at its legs, hoping dearly that they would meet their marks. I squeezed my eyes shut – never a good thing to do in battle – and was rewarded by two _thunks. _

I whooped in relief before remembering that one of Yanluo's arms was still free, and I didn't have any other knives. I cursed, hoping I would be fast enough to avoid its sparkling talons.

My seraph blade outstretched and glowing with a heavenly white fire, I charged to deliver the killing blow. Yanluo bellowed angrily as I approached it, its one free arm flailing around wildly. Black demon ichor oozed out of the places I'd pinned it to the wall.

Taking a deep breath, I came closer and, with a _swish, _chopped straight through its head. The demon screamed, an unearthly rumble, and disappeared in a flash of light, back to wherever it came from.

As the tips of its claws dissolved, the shining nail scraped across my face, from below my eyebrow to my lip. I screamed as the final part of the demon disappeared, feeling blood trickle from the wound.

I had won.

But Yanluo hadn't made it easy.

* * *

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	11. Tessa

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* * *

_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: Third Person Limited (Tessa Gray)_

"_You _are a Downworlder," Charlotte was saying kindly to Tessa. "Brother Enoch confirmed it. We simply don't know of why sort –"

The door to the small room flew open, rattling the witchlight on the table. "Charlotte!" It was a girl, about Tessa's age, and _tiny – _about five feet tall. She had long, dark hair that was coming partially undone from its braid, and fine features that would seem delicate on anyone else. On this girl, however, they seemed lethal. "Charlotte, where's Jem?" The same swirling black marks covered her skin as they did with Will and Charlotte, and there was a gash across her cheek.

"Lissa," Charlotte said calmly, "you're bleeding."

The girl touched a hand to her cheek. "So?"

"You need an _iratze," _Charlotte continued, and the girl flinched away.

"I'm fine, Charlotte."

"Lissa, you're not fine," Charlotte argued. "Look, you've gotten blood on the carpet." It was Tessa's turn to wince now.

"Sorry," the girl – Lissa – said unapologetically. "I'll go do one later. But where's Jem?" Tessa wondered who Jem was and why the girl was so intent on finding him.

"Jem is still…indisposed," Charlotte said, lowering her voice. Lissa cursed colourfully, causing Tessa to stare. She'd never heard a lady say something like that.

"What?" the girl snapped.

"Nothing," Tessa replied, ready to hold her own. But there was one question that she wanted to know the answer to. "Do you know Will?"

The girl rolled her eyes and cursed a bit more. "Sadly," she admitted. Tessa was a bit surprised at her reaction. Though Will and her had interacted briefly, he had seemed pretty….kind.

"You're a lot like him," Tessa added. The girl, who had turned back to Charlotte, whirled around and glared.

"_No," _she said with finality, "I'm not." With that, she spun and faced Charlotte again. "Can I see him?"

Charlotte looked down at the girl in front of her and smiled gently. "Get yourself cleaned up first," she said, "then yes."

A beautiful smile spread over the girl's entire face, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Thank you!" She turned to go before Tessa stopped her.

"Wait," Tessa interrupted. "What's your name?"

The girl twisted the upper half of her body around, her hand still on the doorknob. "Morgenstern," she told Tessa. "Lissa Morgenstern. And you?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morgenstern," Tessa said. "I'm Tessa Gray."

Lissa shook her head. "It's Lissa, just Lissa." She spun the knob and opened the door. "A bientot, Tessa!"

With that, she was gone.

Tessa watched the door swing, then close. Apart from the drop of blood on the carpet, it was as if Lissa had never been there.

Charlotte cleared her throat. "As I was saying," she continued, "the kind of magic you can do – your ability – it isn't something an ordinary human being could do. Neither is it something one of us, a Shadowhunter, could do. Will thought you were –" But it turned out Tessa would never know what Will thought, since at that moment they heard a pair of twin screams: one male, one female, and both coming from the general vicinity of the hallway Lissa had disappeared down.

Charlotte jumped up immediately, and Tessa followed.

"What's happening?" she asked the older woman. "Charlotte, what's going on?"

"Hush," Charlotte reprimanded sharply, and Tessa shrank as she followed her out the door. Lissa was in the hallway when they arrived, pounding on the door of the room next to her own. The gashes on her face and back had disappeared.

"Lissa, do you know the cause of this?" Charlotte asked her, somehow keeping her cool.

"I think it's Jem," Lissa fretted.

"No," Charlotte said gently. "I mean do you know who _else _was screaming just now."

Lissa sent Charlotte a blank look. "What do you mean?"

Charlotte studied the girl's face and sighed. "Nothing." Tessa wondered if this happened regularly, the screaming. Lissa grabbed a funny pencil type thing from her belt – much like what Will had used on the door – and once again started _drawing. _

The door swung open, and Charlotte and Lissa entered. Tessa was a bit nervous as to what was in the room – she'd seen the monsters of this Earth, and wanted to avoid them if at all possible. She lagged in the doorway, but made sure she was given a full view of the room.

Tessa gasped a bit as she saw that the no-eyed, robed _monster _who'd been hovering over her earlier was in the room. Tessa could hear bits of their conversation, since Charlotte and Lissa were speaking over one another.

"Just get the _yin fen!" _Charlotte told Lissa.

"I already have it!" Lissa shot back, her voice rising in desperation.

"Water?" Charlotte again.

Lissa cursed. "No, I'll have to get some." She rose from the bedside and headed out the door, where she bumped into Tessa. "Oh!" she cried, as if just realizing Tessa was there.

"What's going on?" Tessa asked her, hoping for some information.

Lissa's eyes became guarded, and she spat, "Nothing."

"I just want to help," Tessa pleaded. "What's going on?"

Lissa drew a small knife from her belt. "Move out of the way," she said slowly, "or I won't hesitate to use this on you."

Tessa moved out of the way. Even though Lissa intimidated her, Tessa couldn't help feeling a lot of respect for the way she carried herself. She seemed confident in whatever she did, and seeing Lissa tear down the stairs, Tessa thought that this Jem character must mean an awful lot to the tiny girl.

* * *

Tessa entered the enormous dining hall in the red dress that had been lent to her. Once Lissa arrived back at the room, Charlotte had left with Tessa and continued to tell her about the Nephilim and Downworlder life. It still made Tessa's head spin, and she was relieved to see that only six places had been set on the long dining hall. Lissa was next to Will, and there was an empty seat on her left side. Across from her was a fair haired girl – almost ridiculously pretty. Both Lissa and Will seemed to be ignoring her.

They seemed to be ignoring everyone. Tessa wondered if they were related.

Will looked up in relief as Charlotte and Tessa entered, while Lissa examined her cutlery as if trying to find the best way it could be used as a weapon. "Will," Charlotte said. "You remember Miss Gray?"

"My recollection of her," Will answered with his trademark smirk, "is most vivid indeed." He turned those blue eyes and white teeth on Tessa in a smile, and his grey jacket did not make him any less handsome. Tessa blushed, and looked away. Lissa appeared to have noticed this interaction between them, rolled her eyes, and whispered something in Will's ear. He said something back, but Tessa was too busy listening to Charlotte to hear what was undoubtedly more interesting than introductions.

"And Jessamine –" Charlotte was now talking to the beautiful girl with the rings on her fingers. "Jessie, do look up. Jessie, this is Miss Theresa Gray; Miss Gray, this is Miss Jessamine Lovelace." Tessa stole a glance at her every few seconds. Jessie, as Charlotte had called her, was the most ladylike of the three women Tessa had encountered in the Institute in her rich blue dress, blond hair and creamy brown eyes.

Tessa caught Will and Lissa give Jessamine a disparaging look. "Where's your benighted husband, then?" This was Will.

Charlotte sat down and sighed. "Henry is in his workroom. I've sent Thomas to fetch him. He'll be up in a moment."

"And Jem?"

Lissa tensed at the question. "Still unwell," was her only answer.

Charlotte nodded. "He's having one of his days."

"He's _always _having one of his days," Jessamine said, disgust plain in her voice. Tessa looked up from her empty plate when she heard a slam. One of Lissa's knives had landed right in between two of Jessie's manicured fingers, buried deep into the table. Her face was inches away from the other girls when she spoke.

"Jessamine Lovelace," Lissa hissed, "if you speak ill of Jem one more time I swear on the Angel's name it will be the last thing you ever do." Jessamine pulled away, and Lissa yanked her knife out of the table. No one even tried to stop her from threatening Jessamine. Charlotte's only remark was, "Lissa dear, please don't bury your knives in the table. It's bad for the wood."

"Sorry Charlotte," Lissa replied sweetly, tucking the weapon back into her belt.

Tessa stifled a laugh as Sophie and an older woman entered, carrying platters of food. She turned to Will. "Are you and Lissa related?" Tessa asked, simply wanting confirmation. A look of horror passed across Will's face.

"Oh, of course not!" he exclaimed.

"That would be inconvenient," Lissa agreed, putting a hand on his arm. Will winked at her.

Tessa felt as if she was missing out on something. "Why would that be inconvenient?" she asked warily.

"Because then we couldn't be married, of course," Lissa said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Will nodded, and a look of confusion came over Tessa's face. "Married? But you're hardly seventeen!"

"Things work differently in our world," Will explained.

"Oh." Tessa was mortified. She'd thought Will the tiniest bit handsome – she'd _blushed _for him! And he was marrying someone else. Someone she'd just met, to add to it. How embarrassing. "How… nice."

That was when they burst out laughing. Lissa doubled over, narrowly missing face planting into her food, which set her off again. "Tessa," she gasped. "We're not married. I can hardly" she paused to dissolve into giggles again, "I can hardly stand him most of the time." Lissa wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "It's just to welcome you to the Institute."

By this time, Tessa was laughing too, about how she'd let herself be tricked and just for being safe and alive in this new home of hers.

"I swear," Lissa promised, "if anyone new comes to the Institute, we can prank them."

"Excuse me!" Will butted in, since he'd stopped laughing. "That's my job!"

"That was a good one, though," Lissa admitted.

"Best one so far," Will agreed.

"Lissa, Tessa, Will," Charlotte reminded them. "Your food. It'll get cold if you don't eat it."

Forcing down the last of their laughter, the trio turned to their food. This was when Tessa realized just how hungry she was. Tessa bit into a fluffy, fresh roll, but caught herself when she saw Jessamine was staring.

"You know," Jessie said, as if commenting on the weather, "I don't believe I've ever seen a warlock eat before. I suppose you needn't ever bant, do you? You can just use magic to make yourself slender."

"We don't know for certain that she's a warlock, Jessie," Will reminded her.

Jessie continued as if Will hadn't spoken. "Is it dreadful, being so evil? What do you think the Devil's _like?" _

Tessa put down her fork and glared at Jessamine. "Would you like to meet him? I could summon him up in a trice if you like. Being a warlock, and all."

Will whooped with laughter, and Lissa was only a little more discreet in hiding her amusement. Jessie's eyes narrowed and she spat, "There's no need to be rude –" before Charlotte sat straight up in her chair and shrieked.

"_Henry!" _

There was a man in the doorway – one who Tessa had definitely seen before. Red hair, hazel eyes, tweed jacket and a very bright waistcoat. But that wasn't what had made Charlotte scream, it was the fact that his left arm was on fire.

"Charlotte, darling," Henry said as if nothing was amiss, "Sorry I'm late. You know, I think I might nearly have the Sensor working –"

"Henry," Lissa interrupted, not without affection, "You're on fire. You do know that, don't you?"

"Oh yes," Henry replied eagerly, obviously not listening. "I've been working like a man possessed all day. Charlotte, did you hear what I said about the Sensor?"

Charlotte's hand dropped from where it was covering her mouth. "Henry!" she shrieked again. "Your _arm!" _

"Bloody –" Lissa and Will, at the same time, each threw a wet liquid over Henry: Lissa the vase of flowers, Will took Jessie's overly large water glass. They had the same effect. The flames went out with one tiny hiss of protest, leaving Henry soaking and spluttering with one blackened sleeve, flowers at his feet, and an indignant Jessamine yelling, "That was my water, Will! I can't believe you just took my water!"

Henry didn't seem to notice, but beamed and patted his burnt jacket. "You know what this means?"

"That you set yourself on fire and didn't even notice?" Will put down Jessie's delicate – and now empty – water glass.

"That the flame-retardant mixture I developed last week works!" Henry announced. "This material must have been burning for a good ten minutes, and it isn't even half burned through!" He peered down at the other arm. "Perhaps I ought to set the other sleeve on fire and see how long –"

"Henry," Charlotte said for the third time, now much more composed, "if you set yourself on fire deliberately, I will institute divorce proceedings. Now sit down and eat your supper. And say hello to our guest."

"I love Henry," Lissa muttered with a shake of her head as Henry took a place across from Tessa.

"I know you," he said in surprise. "You bit me!" He sounded pleased, as if talking about a pleasant memory. Charlotte gave Henry a despairing look.

"Have you asked Miss Gray about the Pandemonium Club yet?" Will prompted.

The words rung a bell in Tessa's head. "I know those words. They were written on the side of Mrs. Dark's carriage," Tessa recalled.

"It's an organization," Charlotte explained. "A rather old organization of mundanes who have interested themselves in the magical arts. At their meeting they do spells and try to summon up demons and spirits." She sighed.

Jessamine only snorted. Tessa noted she did that a lot. "I can't imagine why they bother," she said disparagingly. "Messing about with spells and wearing hooded robes and setting little fires. It's ridiculous."

"Oh, they do more than that," Will corrected. "They're more powerful in Downworld than you might think. Many rich and important figures in mundane society are members –"

"That only makes it sillier," Jessamine countered with a toss of her silvery blonde hair. "They have money and power. Why are they playing around with magic?"

"A good question," Charlotte agreed. "Mundanes who involve themselves in things they know nothing about are likely to meet unpleasant ends."

Will simply shrugged at this. "When I was trying to track down the source of the symbol on that knife Jem, Lissa and I found in the alley, I was directed to the Pandemonium Club. The members of it in turn directed me to the Dark Sisters. It's their symbol – the two serpents. They supervised a set of secret gambling dens frequented by Downworlders. They existed to lure mundanes in and trick them into losing all their money in magical games, then, when the mundanes fell into debt, the Dark Sisters would extort the money at ruinous rates." Will glanced at Charlotte. "They ran some other businesses as well, most unsavory ones. The house in which they kept Tessa, I've been told, was a Downworlders brothel catering to mundanes with unusual tastes."

"Will, you think _everything _is a –" Lissa began.

"Hmph," Jessamine interrupted. "No wonder you were so keen to go there, William."

Will just continued to ignore Jessie and looked at Tessa across the table. "Have I offended you, Miss Gray? I imagine that after all you've seen, you would not be easily shocked."

Tessa watched Lissa bury her head in her hands as if giving up on Will entirely, and her lips turned up in a smile. "I am not offended, Mr. Herondale," Tessa said, even as her cheeks turned red. "I, ah, don't see how it could have been a…. a place like that," she said decisively. "No one ever came or went, and other than the maidservant and the coachmen, I never saw anyone else who lived there."

"No, by the time I got there, it was quite deserted," Will agreed with a wink. "Clearly they had decided to suspend business, perhaps in the interests of keeping you isolated."

Lissa cleared her throat and spoke this time. "Do you think Miss Gray's brother has the same ability she does? Is that, perhaps, why the Dark Sisters captured him in the first place?"

Tessa shot the other girl a grateful smile. "My brother never showed any sign of such a thing – but then, neither did I until the Dark Sisters found me."

"What _is _your ability?" Jessamine demanded. "Charlotte won't say."

"Jessamine!" Charlotte scolded.

"I don't believe she has one," Jessamine continued. "I think she's simply a little sneak who knows that if we believe she's a Downworlder, we'll have to treat her well because of the Accords."

Tessa set her jaw and was gratified to see the fire in Lissa's eyes at Jessamine's words. She was incredibly glad that this girl was on her side. In the back of her head, Tessa heard her Aunt Harriet saying, _Don't lose your temper, Tessa. _But she didn't care. Everyone was looking at her – everyone except Lissa, who was glaring at Jessamine – Henry's eyes curious, Charlotte's gaze sharp, Jessamine's with hardly veiled contempt, and Will's with cool amusement.

Was Lissa the only one who believed Tessa? What if they all thought what Jessamine did? Aunt Harriet would've hated accepting charity even more than Tessa's temper.

"You can keep it a secret," Lissa said quietly.

"But secrets have their weight," Will said, continuing her thought, "and it can be a very heavy one."

Tessa looked up. "It needn't be a secret," she said, "but it would be easier for me to show you than tell you."

"Excellent!" Henry looked excited. "I enjoy being shown things. Is there anything you require, like a spirit lamp, or –"

"It's not a séance, Henry," Charlotte corrected him. She turned to face Tessa. "You don't need to do this if you don't want to, Miss Gray."

Tessa steeled her resolve and ignored Charlotte. "Actually, I do require something," she said, turning to Jessamine. "Something of yours, please. A ring, or a handkerchief –"

Jessamine's nose wrinkled. "Dear me, it sounds to me rather as if your special power is pickpocketing!"

Will and Lissa sent her the same exasperated look. "Give her a ring, Jessie," Will instructed. "You're wearing enough of them."

"_You _give her something, then." Jessamine returned their gazes and jutted out her chin.

"No." Tessa's tone was firm. "It must be something of yours." _Because if I transform into Lissa, the dress will fall off me, and if I transform into Charlotte, it won't be much better. _

"Oh, very well then." Slowly, painstakingly, Jessamine pulled the smallest ring off her pinky finger and passed it to Tessa. "This had better be worth the trouble."

_Oh, it will be. _Straight-faced, Tessa placed the ring in the palm of her hand and curled her fingers around it. Closing her eyes, she groped her way towards the flicker in the back of her mind. She reached forward, the way the Dark Sisters had taught her, and touched the light and warmth of Jessamine's consciousness like a blanket – and then she was inside it. Inside Jessamine's mind.

Her thoughts occasionally skimmed Jessie's, but what she saw was still able to take her breath away. Tessa felt as if Jessie was a bright piece of candy with something dark at its centre: a worm in the core of an apple. There was so much resentment, hatred – anger, and a fierce longing for_ something – _

Tessa's eyes flew open. Her hand was still clutched around the ring, her skin zinging with pins and needles that came with the Change. Jessamine's hair, too thick to be held back by Tessa's pins, came down around her neck in a blonde cascade.

"By the Angel," Charlotte breathed. Everyone was staring at Tessa – Henry with his jaw dropped, Will without a snide remark, and Lissa with a proud smirk.

Jessamine was gazing at Tessa in horror, like someone who had seen their own ghost. For a moment Tessa felt guilty, but it faded when Jessamine spoke. Her face pale, she exclaimed, _"Goodness, _my nose is enormous! Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Tessa tried her hardest not to laugh, and it was just a bit harder when she heard Lissa, quietly but distinctly, say, _"I _did."

* * *

**How was the first bit of CwA? Hope you liked it!**

**So I now have 2500+ views and 40+ REviews and I just have to tell each and every one of you how amazing you are. Thank you all so much and I know that there have been some of you who have been with me from chapter one when I didn't know what I was doing with this story, so thank you. Thank you to all the new readers, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and said they liked it, thank you to everyone who gave me constructive criticism (because that's the best kind of review) and thank you for reading. I have the best readers ever and I just wanted to make sure that you know that I am so grateful for you. Without all your kind words, I wouldn't be nearly this inspired to write. I've been begged not to kill Lissa, and twisted as it may seem, I was so happy that you guys like her so much. So thank you for everything. You all make me more of an author with each view than before. So thank you. I honestly have always wanted to have a story with over 100 reviews, and we're only on chapter 11 and I have 41, so thank you. I think I might make it to my goal. **

**You're all amazing. I hope you know that.**

**Don't forget to review, and thanks one last time,**

**Till next time,**

**Ivy**


	12. A Violin Duet

**Hey there guys! It's me, back with another update! This may be the fluffiest chapter I've written so far. It's everyone's favourite Tessa-barging-in-on-Jem-in-the-middle-of-the-night bit. I'm really happy with how this turned out.**

**Oh, and WOW! 52 reviews! Are you guys kidding?! That's amazing! Thank you all so so so much!**

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_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: Lissiane P. Morgenstern_

I loved hearing Jem play violin. Tonight, it was especially beautiful. The song was one of hope, happiness, of optimism. I could hear it in the way he fingered the strings, the loving caress of the bow against the violin. The song was one of laughter, of light and summer days, a beautiful song that I could get lost in forever. It was _Jem _in a piece of music.

I loved it.

I loved _him. _

"How was that?" he asked me, his eyes searching my face for approval. He never had to search for long: it was always there.

"It was _fantastic, _James," I praised. "What is it?"

He looked down, a small blush coloring his cheeks. "It was something I was working on," he said softly.

I gasped a little. "You _wrote _that?"

Jem nodded, smiling. "I thought you might like it."

"It's beautiful," I replied. "It might be my favourite thing you've played for all these years, and believe me, Jem, I've heard you play a lot."

"Thank you," he answered, shifting the papers on the music stand ahead of us until one we'd been learning together appeared in the front. Gesturing to it, he asked, "Are you ready?"

I nodded and picked up my own violin. "When you are." Positioning it under my chin, I poised the bow above the instrument and waited for Jem to give the tempo.

"One," he counted slowly, waving his own bow like a conductor's baton, "Two… three… four." He came in first, playing on the lower strings of the violin, whereas my part was high and fleeting, entwining itself in-between and around the melody. Jem's tempo always crooned the melody, emphasizing the whole notes and giving the quick rain of sixteenth notes that fell in the middle of the piece their time to shine. I closed my eyes and swayed a bit, delving deeper into the music than I ever had before. My fingers knew where to go, my other hand driving the bow with the right amount of force – we'd finished memorizing the piece a while ago, but this was the first time it felt truly _right. _As if we were one heart, one soul, on two instruments.

I hardly noticed the door creak open, but Jem did. "Will?" he asked gently.

"Will?" I echoed. "Is that you?" We were almost at the end of the piece, and I didn't break my concentration as the final chord rang out. I finally opened my eyes to see our visitor –

"You're not Will," Jem remarked as he came to the same conclusion I did.

"Tessa?" I asked, confused.

"I'm so sorry," the girl apologised, clearing her throat. "I – I didn't mean to come in here like this. I didn't want to interrupt anything. It's – my room is across the hall, and –"

"That's all right," Jem said kindly. "You're Miss Gray, aren't you? The shape-changer girl. Lissa and Will told me a bit about you."

"Oh," was all Tessa said in response.

"Oh?" I raised both eyebrows. "You don't sound terribly pleased that I told him about you, Tessa."

"It's not you," Tessa explained hastily. "It's just that I think Will is angry with me. So whatever he told you –"

Jem interrupted her with his beautiful silvery laugh. "Will is angry with everyone," he told her. "I don't let it colour my judgement." Tessa managed a small smile, and I returned it.

Jem put his violin down and I placed mine back in my case. He laid his hand on top of mine, gently, and turned back to Tessa. When he saw that I hadn't pulled away, he smiled, a sweet, genuine smile with not only his mouth but his eyes. I smiled back. "I should have introduced myself earlier," he said to Tessa. "I'm James Carstairs. Please call me Jem – everyone does."

"Oh, you're Jem. You weren't at dinner," Tessa noted. "And you were the one Miss Morgenstern–"

"Lissa," I corrected her.

Tessa smiled. "Lissa wanted to visit you earlier. Charlotte said you were ill. Are you feeling better?"

Jem shrugged. "I was tired, that's all," he said casually in reply, but I felt his hand tighten on mine.

"Well, I imagine it must be tiring, doing what you all do," Tessa remarked, changing the subject. "Will said you two came from a long way to live here – were you in Idris?"

"You know of Idris?" I asked. The last time I'd seen Tessa, she'd hardly accepted that Downworlders were real, with no knowledge of our world whatsoever.

"Or did you come from another Institute?" Tessa continued as if I hadn't spoken, her face flushing as she asked question after question about the Shadowhunters. They're all in big cities, aren't they? Did you come together? And why to London –"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Jem interrupted, amused more than annoyed or angry. He had the ability to do that, to forgive unconditionally and become friends with strange warlock girls who barged in while he was playing the violin in the middle of the night.

Or, in my case, strange Nephilim girls who barged in on him while he was in the middle of a bout of illness. I realise I've tuned out, and Jem is saying, "Shanghai. Do you know where that is?"

"China," Tessa replied indignantly. "Doesn't everyone know that?"

"You'd be surprised," I told her with a wry grin.

"What about you, Lissa?" Tessa asks. "Where did you come from?"

"Idris," I said wistfully. There was no harm in telling Tessa where I used to live. "A beautiful city."

"Where is it? I know it's nowhere near China. How could you live in Idris and Jem live in China?" Tessa asked, the questions pouring out of her as if they had no limits.

I laughed a little. Jem did too, and gave my hand a soft squeeze. I'm sure I blushed, but Jem didn't comment as he answered Tessa. "Shadowhunters live all over the world," he explained. "My mother was Chinese; my father was British. They met in London and moved to Shanghai when he was offered the position of running the Institute there." Tessa just stopped and stared.

There was an awkward lull in the conversation before I cleared my throat. "I apologise for asking," I said with a slight wince, "but your parents are dead, aren't they?"

Tessa's head snapped around to meet my eyes. "Did Will tell you that?"

"He didn't need to," I replied softly.

Jem nodded. "We orphans learn to recognize one another. If I might ask – were you very young when it happened?"

I looked down, listening to Tessa's answer. I couldn't deal with it if there was grief on her face; I might break down with her and that couldn't happen. Whenever I was with Jem, it was almost as if all the walls I'd painstakingly built around my emotions were shattered and swept away by guilt and anger – everything else that was in me. The hot, low embers of fury at my brother, who hadn't contacted me since he'd thrown me out of his home. The forever lasting flame of my anger towards Yanluo, the demon who'd ruined my life. The guilt I carried towards everyone who'd I ever affected with my curse.

Tessa was speaking about her brother, a bit sadly. "I'm sorry," she apologised hastily. "I'm maundering on. You don't need to hear all this."

"What sort of man is your brother?" I spoke up. "What's he like?"

Tessa looked up in surprise as Jem gave me a small smile. "Aunt used to say he was a dreamer," she answered. "He always lived in his head. He never cared about how things were, only how they would be, someday, when he had everything he wanted. When _we _had everything _we _wanted. He used–"

I interrupted her softly. "But he loved you, didn't he?"

Tessa nodded. "Yes. He had us all in his dreams."

"Dreams can be dangerous things." It was Jem who said this, making Tessa shake her head.

"No – no, I'm not saying it right. He was a wonderful brother. He…" she trailed off, staring down at Jem's and my hands, the _aimoure _clear on the back. She pointed at it. "What's that meant to do?"

Jem adopted the change in subject smoothly. "It's a Mark. You know what those are, right?" He held up his other hand, where the black eye was clearly inked onto the back. "This one is the Voyance. It clears our Sight. Helps us to see Downworld." He flipped his hand over so it was palm up, then lifted the sleeve of his nightshirt. Runes swirled their way up his arm and disappeared into the cloth above. "For swiftness, night vision, angelic power, to heal quickly," Jem told Tessa, reading aloud the names of the runes. "Though their names are more complex than that, and not in English."

"Do they hurt?"

"They hurt when we received them," I explained. "They don't hurt at all now." Jem smiled at me again, pulling down his sleeve, and I returned it. "Now, don't tell me that's all the questions you have."

Tessa shook her head, a small smile growing on her face. But her next question was for Jem, not me. "Why can't you sleep?"

Jem squeezed hard on my hand. He took a deep, shaky breath before placing that hand around my shoulder. I moved a bit closer to him, patting the space next to us so Tessa could sit down. My head was on his shoulder when Jem spoke again, and I could feel the vibrations of his voice on my head when he answered simply, "I have bad dreams."

Tessa nodded. "I was dreaming too," she said. "I dreamed about your music." She gestured to the violin cases on the floor.

I grinned at her through Jem's sturdy embrace. "A nightmare?"

"No," Tessa protested, "It was lovely. The loveliest thing I've heard since I came to this horrible city."

"London isn't horrible," Jem replied smoothly. "You simply have to get to know it. Lissa and I could show you around, if you'd like. We can bring you to the beautiful parts of London – we love to go there." He smiled down at me and brushed dark hair out of my eyes. I should be used to it by now, but his touch still made me shiver.

"Singing the praises of our fair city?" Will's voice snapped me out of my haze. His dark boots were edged with mud, and it was clear by the flush on his cheeks he'd just come inside. "We treat you well here, don't we, James? I doubt I'd have that kind of luck in Shanghai. What do you call us there, again?"

Jem looked to me appraisingly, testing me on the Chinese I knew, but I shook my head. I had no idea. _"Yang guizi," _he replied, looking away from me to his _parabatai. _"Foreign devils."

"Hear that, Tessa?" Will sauntered into the room and flung his coat onto the edge of the bed. "I'm a devil. So are you."

"Your hair's wet," Jem noticed. "Where have you been?"

"Here, there, everywhere," Will replied with his usual mischievous grin.

"Boiled as an owl, aren't you?" I asked slyly, and Will conceded with a sigh. I noticed Tessa's gaze turn slightly disappointed, but she didn't know Will the way Jem and I did.

"Where've you been?" Jem asked. "The Blue Dragon? The Mermaid?"

Will sighed again, leaning against one of the deep mahogany bedposts. "The Devil Tavern, if you must know. I had such plans for this evening. The pursuit of blind drunkenness and wayward women was my goal." Now it was _my _turn to be disapproving. "But alas, it was not to be. No sooner had I consumed my third drink in the Devil than I was accosted by a delightful small flower-selling child who asked me two-pence for a daisy. The price seemed steep, so I refused. When I told the girl as much, she proceeded to rob me."

"Hold up a minute, Will," I laughed. "A little girl robbed you?"

"Actually," Will replied devilishly, "she wasn't a little girl at all, as it turns out, but a midget in a dress with a penchant for violence who goes by the name of Six-Fingered Nigel."

"Easy mistake to make," Jem agreed, and I laughed myself to tears. Nigel didn't look anything like a little girl. How drunk _was _he?

"I caught him in the act of slipping his hand into my pocket," Will continued, his long hands flying everywhere as his body language told the story as much as his words. "I couldn't let that stand, or course. A fight broke out almost immediately. I had the upper hand until Nigel leaped onto the bar and struck me from behind with a pitcher of gin."

"Ah." I fought off the last of my giggles. "That does explain why your hair's wet."

"It was a fair fight," Will said. "But the proprietor of the Devil didn't see it that way. Threw me out. I can't go back for a fortnight."

"Best thing for you," Jem replied unsympathetically. "Glad to hear its business as usual, then. I was worried for a moment that you'd come home early to see if I was feeling better."

"You seem to be doing perfectly fine without me," Will said, and it was true. "You've got Lissa, anyways, and I see you've met our resident shape-shifting mystery woman." He stole a glance towards Tessa, and I hid a small smirk behind my hands. I liked that line: _shape shifting mystery woman. _"Do you normally turn up in gentlemen's bedrooms in the middle of the night?" he continued. "If I'd known that, I would have campaigned harder to make sure Charlotte let you stay."

"I don't see how what I do is your concern," Tessa replied evenly. "Especially since you abandoned me in the corridor and left me to find my own way back to my room."

Will raised an eyebrow. "And you found your way to Jem's room instead?"

"It was the violins," Jem explained. "She heard us practicing."

"Ghastly wailing noise, isn't it?" Will asked Tessa. "I don't know how all the cats in the neighbourhood don't come running every time they play. _Especially _Lissa. She hasn't been playing for long and –"

"Excuse me, William, but I'd like to see _you _try to play a musical instrument," I shot at him.

"I do," he replied. "My voice has often been compared to angels singing."

"Well, obviously whoever said _that _wasn't listening very well," I retorted.

Will opened his mouth to answer when Tessa said, "I thought it was pretty. The playing, I mean."

"That's because it was," I agreed, happy that someone was on my side.

Will crooked a finger in our direction. "You're ganging up on me. Is this how it's going to be from now on? I'll be the odd man out? Dear God, I'll have to befriend Jessamine."

"Jessamine can't stand you," I pointed out.

"Henry, then."

"Henry will set you on fire."

"Thomas," Will suggested.

Jem was smiling. "Thomas," he began – and then doubled over, his body racked with a sudden, intense fit of coughing so violent that he pulled his arms away from me and crouched down on his knees. Tessa seemed shell-shocked, but I sprang off the bed and grabbed the _yin fen _box from where it had been earlier. On the ground, Will was asking Jem, "Where is it?"

Jem held up a single trembling hand dismissively, saying, "I don't need it – I'm all right –" But coughs were shaking his thin frame, and I went to work mixing the poison with water.

"Where is it?" Will asked, more intently. "Where did you put it?"

"Here," I gasped, thrusting the glass towards him.

"Thanks, Lis," Will said quickly, and I turned towards Tessa. I could trust Will to take care of his _parabatai. _

"Tessa, get out," I growled.

She looked stunned, the same preyed-upon look on her face as when I'd yelled at her earlier. "Lissa," she whispered. "Is there anything –"

"No." I nearly spat the word out in my worry for Jem. Everything was a haze. "Come with me." I grabbed her arm, and not gently either, and marched her out the corridor. "I will see you in the morning."

"But he's coughing blood," Tessa protested. "Perhaps I should get Charlotte –"

"No." The negative fell like a heavy stone off a cliff. Something in Tessa's eyes broke, so I leaned in and told her, "He has medicine. Will's giving it to him now. There's no need for Charlotte to know."

"But if he's ill –"

"_Please, _Tessa." Something must've told her I was serious, because she gave the smallest smile. "It would be better if you said nothing about this."

There was a war going on behind Tessa's blue-grey irises. "I – all right."

"Thank you." I released her, closed the door, and locked it tight. "Will!" I called immediately. "Will, is he all right?"

Jem raised one hand weakly – the one marked with the _aimoure – _and waved it. "I'm fine."

"James!" I ran to him. "By the Angel, Will, did you just leave him on the floor?" Will opened his mouth to argue, but I'd already turned to Jem. "Can you stand?"

"Probably," he said, nodding. Jem supported himself between myself, Will, and the bed, and pulled himself up. Folding his arms over his stomach, he lie down and looked up at us, watching like hawks. "Really, you two, I'm _fine." _

"You're not –" Will and I began at the same time, then stopped. We stared at each other challengingly, each daring the other to back down.

"You know what," Will began, neither of us breaking our gaze, "I'm going to grab a pitcher of water. We've nearly run out, and…" he let the sentence trail off, and I nodded.

"We'll see you in a moment, Will." He left, leaving Jem and I alone. I pulled up a small stool with an embroidered seat and sat by his bedside.

"Lissa," Jem said quietly. I turned, raising my eyebrows questioningly. "Lissa, will you play for me?" He was so small, so innocent, so fragile for the first time since I'd met him. So beautiful. I loved him.

I nodded. "Of course." I took out my violin and began to play, a high and sweet melody. This time it seemed slightly melancholy, as if it was not quite full. I could imagine the way Jem's violin would sound, playing a harmony bit, and my instrument's sweet song did not seem like enough for tonight. It sounded as if it were missing its other half.

So I sang along with it, a lullaby, changing the tune of the song to fit mine, singing of love and travel – changing the words along with it.

_Sleep, sleep, by the silver moon,_

_Close your eyes and sleep will come soon,_

_Let the light shine in,_

_Let the worries flow out,_

_Let the moonlight embrace you,_

_And the songbirds chase you_

_Through your dreams._

_Dream of laughter,_

_Dream of love,_

_Dream of light. _

_Dream of me, my sweet,_

_Dream of me tonight. _

By the time I put the instrument down, Jem's breathing had evened out. He was sleeping. I reached over and squeezed his hand, the _aimoure _glowing black against them both.

This was my Jem. My beautiful, wonderful, James Carstairs.

_Dream of me, my love,_

_Dream of me tonight._

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**Yeah, I wrote Lissa's lullaby. I know, crazy, but whatever. I couldn't think of a good lullaby for her to sing, so I made my own up. Perks of being an author, right?**

**Also, I will now be replying to reviews with PM's! So review if you like it, don't, or just want to talk.**

**So now I have a little challenge for you: name the lullaby. Come up with one. It will be mentioned in the next chapter, so full credits to whoever comes up with a name. If no one does... I'll just have to name it something cheesy and everyone will laugh *sighs***

**So don't forget to review! **

**See you soon,**

**-Ivy**


	13. Breakfast and a Brothel

**Hey there, friends and fellow readers!**

**So sorry about the long wait, but the Jissa really kicks off in this chapter. Very excited.**

**Thank you all for your amazing responses to the lullaby! The winning title goes to the fantastic _basil and dill_, translated into Latin. I also have to thank the _marvelous _Lucie Santine for reasons that will be explained down in the lower and A/N!**

**Now read, clever Nephilim, and remember...**

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_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: Lissiane P. Morgenstern_

I yawned and rolled over in my bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I hesitantly pushed the covers off of my bed. That's when I remembered – _Jem. _I'd fallen asleep after playing the lullaby _Lunem Per Argentum Oculus – _By the Eye of the Silver Moon, in Latin – for him, putting away my violin and laying my head on the corner of his bed.

I had fallen asleep on a _stool. _I had also fallen asleep _in Jem's room. _And to make matters worse, I had fallen asleep _with my head on his bed. _

This wasn't good. Speaking of which, why wasn't I in the middle of the bed? I always enjoyed the spacy, comfortable beds of the Institute and made sure to use them to my advantage. Unless I was having a nightmare – which I hadn't – I hardly moved around in my sleep.

So _why _was I leaning towards the left side of the bed? Looking around and blinking a couple times, I realised that the scenery wasn't quite right either. For one thing, the gear I had placed in the corner was no longer there. I thought that might just be Sophie, but I never let her work in the middle of the night, no matter how much she explained that it would allow her to do more work in the same amount of time. Secondly, my stele wasn't on the nightstand. Someone _else's _was. A stele I'd recognise anywhere: _Jem's _stele. Oh, by the Angel, things were _not _looking up.

The third and final most incriminating thing I saw was the music stand. Standing innocently underneath it was the stool, its embroidered red seat glaring at me with an accusing gaze. Lying right below the music stand was… oh, no: our violins. I hadn't put mine back last night, having been both too tired and too concerned about Jem.

That left two possibilities. One: Sophie had redecorated my room to look exactly like Jem's – oh, there was the _yin fen _box, too – overnight, even though she was supposed to be sleeping. Extremely unlikely, since the objects were in their exact places that they had been in Jem's room. Plus, my wardrobe was a bit more expansive than his, and even from the bed I could see Jem's neatly pressed shirts and folded pants behind the closet doors.

That left the second possibility: I was in Jem's room. I was _in Jem's bed. _

This possibility was almost too mortifying to think about. Almost. So, slowly, very slowly, I turned around. There it was: the back of Jem's silvery head, smelling of sweet _yin fen _and soap.

I whispered quite a few things that would've made a sailor blush. Even when I was done, curses circulated around my head to whoever had put me here.

Oh, who was I kidding? Only one person tended to lift me when I was unconscious – which had, embarrassingly, happened multiple times – and that person was Will Herondale himself.

Curse that boy.

Carefully, I swung my legs out of the bed and buried my feet in the plush carpet. I rose, slowly, thinking that perhaps I had made it, when –

"_Lissa?" _It was Jem. I winced, then turned around.

"Hi," I breathed with a small wave.

Jem seemed to be deciding whether to be disapproving or, well, not. At the end, a tiny smile graced his lips, crinkling up the corners of his eyes, the swirling silver eyes that had the same entrancing effect as a whirlpool of molten lead. "How did you come here?" he asked finally, though the question was laced with curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place.

I rolled my eyes, happy to have an answer. "Will," I replied. "I fell asleep on the stool and he must've, er, brought me here." I gestured to the spot on the bed I'd just left.

Jem laughed a little. "Oh, leave it to him to do something like that," he remarked, amused.

I laughed with him. "It gave me _quite _a shock when I realised I wasn't in my own room," I admitted.

Jem reached out and took my hand. It felt nice, it felt…. Right. "I would be too," he agreed. "Trust me. Will would never hear the end of it."

I smiled down at him, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm about to go hound him," I explained, but I didn't quite want to leave yet. "I'll see you at breakfast?"

Jem nodded hopefully, dropping my hand. I turned to go when he called, "Lissa – wait."

I spun back around. "Yes, James?"

Jem looked at me, the way he does that feels as if he's staring straight past your appearance and into the depths of your soul. Finally, he whispered, "You look beautiful today."

My heart jumped even as I held an even gaze. "You look wonderful, too."

* * *

I checked over my reflection in the vanity mirror a final time, inspecting myself from all angles. It might've been frivolous and childish, vain even to the extent of _Jessamine-_ish, but I didn't care. Jem had thought I was beautiful today. What could've made him think that?

I looked nicer now, though, my long dark hair pulled in a braid that trailed almost down to my waist. I was wearing the robin's egg blue dress Jessamine had insisted I order, and I had to admit that it made my brownish skin look pretty. According to her, it brought out the blue in my eyes.

I had no idea what she was talking about: my eyes were green. There was no blue anywhere. It was just _green. _I leaned closer to the mirror to see if there was any green in the blue. My eyes weren't an aquamarine, or a sea green, just plain green. I still didn't understand the way Jessie fawned over the way that the blue dress brought out the nonexistent blue in my green eyes.

Shrugging, I turned to go, pocketing my stele and regretfully putting down my longsword. Instead, I felt for the padded pocket in my skirts and slipped a dagger into it. Sophie had gladly adjusted it to become more practical, while Jessamine had shrieked that I was ruining its dainty, ladylike appearance.

I didn't get that either: it was a _dress. _How much more ladylike could you get?

I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, where Jem was gently shutting the door to his room. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and I smiled.

"Good morning, James," I greeted him cheerfully.

"Morning, Lissa," he replied. I waited until he reached me to start walking, and to my pleasant surprise, he took my hand. Neither of us were speaking of the incident this morning, but I could tell it was on his mind. However, the silence in which we walked was companionable, simply appreciating the other's presence.

Will was already in the dining room when we arrived, and hardly looked up before mumbling out a, "Morning Jem, Lissa," and nodding his head.

I took my usual place next to him, Jem on my other side. The usual assortment of foods were on the table; eggs, bacon, toast and a variety other breakfast items were lain out across the table. I reached for my usual breakfast of porridge accompanied by a slice of toast and jam, unable to swallow my pride to simply ask Jessie to get it for me.

"Lissa, hold on," Jem's voice said from behind me. With a slight pout, I sat down as the much taller Jem was easily able to reach all the foods that had been a stretch for me and placed them in front of my place setting.

"It's not fair that you're so tall," I mumbled, grinning from underneath my hair.

"Of course it's not," Jem agreed teasingly, a spark of humour glittering in his eyes.

"But… thanks," I said finally, reaching for the tea kettle in the centre of the table.

"Oi!" Jem exclaimed. "I can get that for you." He pushed my hand back into my lap and pointedly – and very easily, I noted with a twinge of envy – picked up the kettle and poured the both of us tea.

"I'll be so beholden to you by the time breakfast is over that I'll have to spend my entire life working off the debt," I muttered.

"It's _breakfast, _Lissa," Will piped up. "You're not going to be in debt to Jem because he got you some breakfast. Now, me on the other hand –"

"I know _you'd _charge me, Will," I grumbled. "That's why Jem did it for me. And plus, you were too absorbed in your tart to pay any mind."

"'S a _good _tart!" Will advocated with his mouth full of said pastry.

"I can tell," I said, regarding him warily. "You seem rather engrossed with it."

"Never get between Will and his food," Jem added dryly, and I laughed. At that moment, Tessa came into the dining room in a pale purple gown. She held onto the railing and surveyed the room, looking rather nervous. I waved to her, and Tessa immediately brightened and made her way over to us, sitting down next to Will.

"We were just talking about you," Jessamine said with a fake smile, pushing a silver platter of toast over to Tessa.

"We were?" I asked, sending Jessie a pointed glare.

"Well, they were having an argument over tarts," she sniffed, "while _I _was thinking of what to do. Suggestions, anyone?"

"Wait," Tessa interrupted. "What about me?"

Jessie sent her a cool look. "What to do with you, of course. Downworlders can't live in the Institute forever."

"_I _say," Will put in, "we sell her to the Gypsies on Hampstead Heath." He turned to Charlotte and added, "I hear they purchase spare women as well as horses."

"Please, Will," I interrupted before Charlotte could discipline him. "It's the extra men that they use to work the horses. Bring them around the stalls. Shovel the poop –"

"That's enough!" Charlotte exclaimed angrily, looking up from her food.

"You're right," Will agreed. "They'd never buy her. Too scrawny."

"Oh!" I piped up. "We could sell the _both _of you! Then we've solved _all _the Institute's problems!" I smiled proudly towards Will's mock glare.

"That's enough," Charlotte said. "Miss Gray shall remain. If for no other reason than because we're in the middle of an investigation that requires her assistance. I've already dispatched a message to the Clave telling them that we're keeping her here until this Pandemonium Club matter is cleared up and her brother is found. Isn't that right, Henry?"

"Quite," Henry agreed, putting down the newspaper he was hiding behind. "The Pandemonium thingie is a top priority. Absolutely."

"You'd better tell Benedict Lightwood, too," Will added. "You know how he is."

Charlotte went a bit pale, and I was sure that I grimaced. Tessa simply looked a bit confused. Good for her. The poor girl shouldn't need to know who Benedict Lightwood was anytime soon. "Will, I want you and Lissa to revisit the site of the Dark Sisters' house, it's abandoned now, but it's still worth a final search. And I want you to take Jem with you –"

"Is he well enough?" Will and I asked, almost in unison.

"He is _quite _well enough," Jem piped up from my other side. He'd been quiet during breakfast and was now tugging on the scarlet waistcoat he was wearing. "In fact, he's ready to go when you are."

"You should eat a little more first," Charlotte fretted, gesturing down at the miniscule amount on his plate. A stab of guilt went through me. _I should've noticed he wasn't eating. _"And," Charlotte continued, gesturing towards Tessa, "Jem, this is Miss Gray. She's –"

"We've met," Jem interrupted, taking my hand from beside me as he used his free one to put some butter on a slice of toast.

"You have?" Charlotte asked, puzzled.

"I encountered Tessa in the corridor last night and introduced myself," Jem explained, those beautiful silvery eyes sparking with laughter as, though his words were directed towards Charlotte, he looked directly at me. "I may have given her something of a fright."

Charlotte accepted the answer with a shrug. "Very well, then," she consented. "I'd like you to go with Will and Lissa. In the meantime, today, Miss Gray –"

"Call me Tessa," Tessa said. "I would prefer it if everyone did."

"Very well, Tessa," Charlotte agreed with a smile. "Henry and I will be paying a call on Mr. Axel Mortmain, your brother's employer, to see if he, or any of his employees, might have any information as to your brother's whereabouts."

"Thank you." There was an expression of surprised gratitude on her face, and I smiled over at her. Charlotte always does whatever she can to help.

"I've heard of Axel Mortmain," Jem piped up thoughtfully. "He was a taipan, one of the big business heads in Shanghai. His company had offices on the bund."

"Yes," Charlotte said, nodding, "the newspapers say he made his fortune in imports of silk and tea."

"Bah." Jem's tone was light, but I could tell by the way he squeezed down hard on my hand that this was a touchy subject. "He made his fortune in opium. All of them did. Buying opium in India, sailing it to Canton, trading it for goods."

"He wasn't breaking the law, James," I reminded him softly, but still squeezed back on his hand.

Charlotte then pushed the newspaper Henry had put down across the table, in front of Jessie. "Meanwhile, Jessie, perhaps you and Tessa can go through the paper and make not of anything that might pertain to the investigation, or might be worth a second look –"

Jessie recoiled from the paper, looking down at it with hardly veiled disgust. "A lady does not read the newspaper," she informed us primly. "The society pages, perhaps, or the theatre news. Not this filth."

I sighed. "Jessie, you aren't a lady –"

"Dear me," Will interrupted with a sly grin. "Such harsh truths so early in the morning cannot be good for the digestion."

"What Lissa means," Charlotte corrected me, "is that you are a Shadowhunter first, and a lady second."

Jessie flushed, and shot back, "Speak for yourself." Turning to Tessa, she remarked coldly, "You know, I wouldn't have expected you or – heavens forbid – _Lissa _to notice, but it seems clear that the only thing Tessa has to put on her back is that awful red dress of mine, and it doesn't fit her. It doesn't even fit _me _anymore, and she's taller than I am."

"I wouldn't have expected you to notice, Jessie," I quipped, "but you're an _awfully _dreadful person to be around, you know that?"

Charlotte sent me a silencing glare, but didn't say anything apart from, "Can't Sophie…."

"You can take a dress in," Jessie said. "It's another thing to make it twice as big as it was to start with. Really, Charlotte." Jessie blew out her cheeks in frustration. "I think you ought to let me take poor Tessa into town to get some new clothes. Otherwise, the first time she takes a deep breath, that dress will fall right off her." I glanced at Tessa and saw the confusion as to why Jessie was being so nice written plainly on her features. Will, on the other hand, looked mildly intrigued by the last sentence of Jessie's speech.

"I think she should try that out now and see what – _ow, _Lissa!" he complained, rubbing his side where I elbowed him.

"Oh," Tessa said, ignoring the both of us. "No, really, it's not necessary –"

"It is," Jessamine insisted.

Charlotte shook her head. "Jessamine, as long as you live in the Institute, you are one of us, and you have to contribute –"

"You're the one who insists we have to take in Downworlders who are in trouble, and feed and shelter them," Jessie countered. "I'm quite sure that includes clothing as well. You see, I will be contributing – to Tessa's upkeep."

Henry leaned across the table, seemingly now engaged in conversation. "You'd better let her do it," he advised. "Remember the last time you tried to get her to sort the daggers in the weapons room, and she used them to cut up all the linens?"

"We needed new linens," Jessie shrugged.

"Oh, all right," Charlotte snapped. "Honestly, sometimes I despair with the lot of you." Will and I exchanged a glance, while Jem questioned, "What've I done? I've only just arrived."

By this time Charlotte had put her face in her hands. I did the same, rolling my eyes deliberately at Jessamine. _How _did I do this every day? Oh, right, I was part of the mayhem. Jem put an arm around my shoulders, causing me to immediately jerk up.

"Oh, sorry," he said immediately, but he looked hurt.

"No," I stammered. "No, that was alright." Jem smiled, reaching for my hand again.

At that moment, Will chose to lean across the table and say, "Alright, lovebirds, are we going to leave now?"

I'm sure I was blushing furiously, but Jem simply stated calmly, "I need to finish my tea first. Anyway, I don't see what you're so fired up about. You said the place hadn't been used as a brothel in ages?"

"I want to be back before dark," Will said. "I have an assignation in Soho this evening with a certain attractive someone."

"Of course you do," I muttered, earning a slight smirk from Jem.

"Goodness," Tessa said from behind Will's dark hair. "If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions."

Jem choked on his tea.

* * *

**Aaannnd, chapter thirteen! It amazes me how far we've gotten with this. You're all brilliant :) and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!**

**Now, if you'd like to hear a beautiful recording of Lissa's lullaby, sung by the wonderful Lucie Santine, go to www . youtube . co . uk and add **/watch?v=OWA8_QkWi90 **to the end of the url. **

**See you soon and don't forget to review!**

**-Ivy**


	14. Love, Lissa

**I don't think I've been so scared to upload a chapter since chapter one, when this was all new. I'm so sorry I haven't updated, and I feel awful. But you guys are still my amazing readers and you've reviewed and read and gotten us to 5,000 views! I really love you guys :) *insert heart***

**So here's a chapter for you :)**

* * *

_The Dark House, 1878_

_Perspective: Lissiane P. Morgenstern_

"You know," Jem mused as we stood in front of the Dark House, craning his neck and looking up, "this isn't at all what I thought a brothel would look like."

Will smirked, glancing over at his _parabatai. _"What were you imagining, exactly?" he asked. "Ladies of the night waving from the balconies? Nude statues adorning the entranceways?"

Jem shrugged and replied, "I suppose." He turned his eyes to the abandoned brothel again. "I was expecting something a bit les drab."

"Actually," I piped up, tossing my dark braid over one shoulder, "a couple years ago, it was nearly exactly what Will was describing." The boys stared at me for a moment. "But the nude statues were on the inside."

The Dark House had certainly deteriorated from the last time I'd seen it, true to my word, a few years ago. It was now dirty and deserted, the windows latched and the curtains drawn, as if to keep out a cruel world.

Will examined the door with disdain, rolling up his sleeves. "We'll probably have to knock down the door –"

"Or," Jem interrupted, reaching out a hand and twisting the doorknob, "not."

"Now, that's just laziness," Will replied disapprovingly, grabbing a hunting dagger from his belt and stepping inside.

"Laziness is better than stupidity," I replied cheerfully, following him in and sending a look back towards Jem, who was clutching his walking stick. A pang went through me, but I beckoned him forwards with a forced smile.

Will frowned. "Are you calling me stupid, Lissiane Morgenstern?"

"I believe I am, Herondale," I grinned as the door swung shut. The half-lit room took a while to adjust to, the air permanently musty, but the regal floor of marble seemed to try to make up for it. It still felt like you could swim in the dust.

Jem raised his hand, the witchlight flickering into a bright, monotonous glow. A pack of black beetles skittered across the floor, running into another corner.

"Nice place to live, isn't it?" Will commented with a grimace. "Let's hope they left something behind other than filth. Forwarding addresses, a few severed limbs, a prostitute or two…"

"Indeed." I grinned wryly. "Perhaps, if we're fortunate, we can still catch syphilis." I look to Will. "Well, Jem and I can."

Will frowned. "Or demon pox," he suggested instead, twisting the doorknob of the small door beneath a flight of stairs. It swung open as he continued, "There's always demon pox."

"Demon pox does not exist," Jem replied evenly.

"Oh, ye of little faith," Will scowled, stepping into the dark room.

"Really, Will," I said, rolling my eyes, "if there was such thing as demon pox, you would've contracted it already."

I knew he was grinning in the darkness as we began to search the cellar. "You don't know, I always could've."

I stopped scrounging the floor for a moment. "You _do _look a bit like a demon – doesn't he look like a demon, Jem?"

Jem laughed. "I'm staying out of this conversation."

It was quiet for a moment before Will started yelling about blood smeared on the wall (which caused quite a fuss). There were a few heart-pounding seconds before Jem said slowly, "Will… that looks a bit like paint."

We inspected it further and found that yes, Jem was probably correct. I punched Will and scolded, "Don't go screaming your head off about a little red paint, we'll have to put you in an asylum."

Will grumbled something in reply, and we abandoned the cellar, going upstairs this time. A long hallway stretched in front of us, lined with door upon door. Will gave us a thumbs up, signaling he'd seen this place before, and led us into the first room on the right.

The room was entirely empty: no bed, no desk, no…anything. It was a bit eerie. The only thing that stood as proof any life had ever been in this room was the four dark dents in the floor. It was dark, too, and I took a step back, yelping when I bumped into something solid and…warm.

It was Jem. _Oh. _I blushed, and fumbled for my witchlight, mumbling, "Sorry."

Jem looked like he wanted to say something, but I left the first room and entered the next one. We'd split up by now: Will in one room, Jem in another, and me in a third. It was still rather dark, and I was glad Will couldn't see me shaking. Every gust of wind made me shudder, and the witchlight was my only compensation.

"Will!" Jem's voice sounded from a nearby room. "Lissa! Come quickly!"

I practically ran out of the room, no more persuasion needed. Will emerged from his room and together we found Jem in the last room on the left. I focused on the shine of the witchlight before realising – there was someone else in the room.

_Well. _This room wasn't empty like the rest, with a chair in its centre, and on the chair sat a young woman. She looked around our age, not older than Jessie, and was wearing a flimsy dress of flower print. Dull, mousy hair was gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck, and her hands were bare and covered with blood. She stared blankly at us with wide open eyes.

"Oh," I said as I took her in.

"Gah," was the only word Will could say. "Is she –"

"She's dead," Jem cut him off.

"Are you certain?" Will was still staring at the woman. Her face was pale, but not deathly so, and her hands were folded neatly in her lap as if she were simply waiting for a servant to bring tea. Will walked hesitantly up to the woman and placed a hand on her arm. "Well," he shrugged, "she's not responding to my advances, so she _must _be dead."

"Or," I replied, "she's a woman of good taste and sense."

Jem laughed, kneeling down and looking into the woman's pale blue eyes. "Miss," he said quietly, reaching for her wrist to take a pulse.

The moment he touched her, the woman jerked away from his hand. She sat up and let out a low, inhuman moan.

Jem stood up and backed away. "What in –"

The woman raised her head robotically. I bit my lip as I stared, forcing myself not to turn and flee. I was sure that I was shaking in terror, embarrassed to show it. The woman's eyes were still blank, but she spoke, a grinding sound coming from her lips. "Beware!" the woman yelled, her voice echoing.

I screeched and took three steps back, fumbling for a seraph blade or _something _I could use to protect myself. The woman moaned again, her voice sounding like the grating and turning of gears against each other. "Beware, Nephilim," she groaned. "As you slay others, so you shall be slain. Your angel cannot protect you against that which neither God nor the devil has made, an army born of neither Heaven nor Hell. Beware the hand of man. Beware." The woman started shrieking now, her voice rising in pitch as she jerked back and forth in the chair as if a puppet being yanked on invisible strings. "BEWARE BEWAREBEWAREBEWAREBE –"

"Good God," Jem murmured.

"BEWARE!" she screamed in finality, toppling forwards and spilling out on the ground. Silenced. Dead.

"I-is she dead now?" I asked shakily, biting my lip as I stared at her.

"Yes," Jem said in reassurance. "I think she's _quite _dead this time."

Will, though, was frowning and shaking his head. "Dead. You know what, I don't _think _so."

We both gave him an odd look and I asked, "Well then, William, what do you think, then?"

Will didn't answer, just knelt down next to the woman's body. Putting two fingers to her cheek, he turned her head until she faced Jem and I. Her mouth was wide open in mid-yell, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Well, correction. Her _eye. _The woman's right eye was blankly looking ahead, the left one dangling halfway down her cheek. It was attached to the socket it had rested in before by a spring of copper wire, bouncing gently and gruesomely.

"She's not alive," Will explained, "but not dead, either. She may be… like one of Henry's gadgets, I think." He touched a finger to the woman's face. "Who could have done this?"

"I could hardly guess," Jem said quietly.

There was a beat of silence as we all thought, and I piped up as I ran her speech through my head. "She called us Nephilim," I recalled. "She knows – knew – what we are."

"Or someone did," Will said grimly. "I don't imagine she _knows _anything. I think she's a machine, like a clock. And she has run down." He stood up with an air of finality. "Regardless, we had best get her back to the Institute. Henry will want to have a look at her."

Jem didn't reply and I just nodded. He was staring down at the woman on the floor, and I touched his arm gently. Jem looked at me and smiled, taking my hand in a reassuring gesture. I had no idea what was about to happen, and I had a foreboding deep in my gut that it wasn't necessarily going to be good.

* * *

"Dammit, Will!" I yelled as we carried the woman out of the brothel. "I cannot believe your stupidity!"

"What?" he yelled back from ahead of me, as he was carrying the woman's head and I, her feet. "What did I do now?"

I sigh heavily. "Will, if we keep carrying her like this, there's no way we're going to get around that turn."

Will takes the time to look ahead of him, the end of the hallway inches from his face. "Oh." He has the decency to look embarrassed. _"Damn." _

I roll my eyes. "How old are you? One would think that you have the brains to know how to carry someone properly."

Will perks up considerably as he begins to recount some tale. "Actually, last night, I came across a young boy lying on the –"

"_Will!" _I bellowed. "I! Don't! _Care!" _

Jem tapped me on the shoulder. "Lissa, Will, calm down a minute." There was a very obvious smile in in his voice that tells me he thought us rather amusing.

"Yes, Jem?"

"Just back up," he instructed, putting a hand on the mechanical woman's side and walking backwards. I rolled my eyes at the simplicity of the solution, but do what he said anyway. We took about two steps back before bumping into something. Will cursed from up front, and Jem sighed.

"Alright, genius," I quipped, "and more ideas?"

"Well, yes," Jem said with a smile. "Follow my instructions…"

It took a few minutes, but we tipped the lady upright, trying our hardest not to look her in the eyes, and practically walked her out of the house. We had to carry her down the steps and try to make sure her head didn't bump the ceiling… or her feet dragged against the floor… All of which happened multiple times. The mechanical woman was a bit worse for the wear by the time we loaded her in the carriage, everyone a bit worn out.

Will rode up front, steering the horses, while Jem and I stayed in the belly of the carriage with no complaints. The ride was bumpier than usual, and we rode in near silence, just the occasional, "Oops," or "Sorry," or "Are you alright?" breaking the pause.

We hit a hard bump and I went flying, skirts billowing out and tumbling in a heap right onto Jem. _Oh. _We were inches apart, and I was sure my face was red. Calmly, Jem helped me up and asked like the gentleman he is, "Are you alright, Lissa?"

"Fine, thank you," I replied, flustered, as I smoothed down my skirts and sent Jem a smile.

He returned it gently and put a hand on my arm, sending tingles shooting up it and dissolving throughout my body. I was about to take his hand when a horrible image came to me – Jem, his face tight with pain, coughing and hacking – he's so thin – and deathly pale, and in my imagination, I was standing beside him dressed in black like a grim reaper, my face stony and hard and unfeeling.

In this quick flash of a mental picture I could tell that Jem was dead, and it's all because of _me, _me and my stupid curse…

I pulled my hand away and gave Jem a tight smile. I wished I could lean into him, kiss him and be with him as freely as I have lately, but these moments of indulgence are dangerous for both of us. Hurt flashed across Jem's face, but I turned away, watching the London Institute come into view.

I didn't accept Jem's hand as I stepped out of the carriage, my demeanor frosty and harsh. I've gotten too close – far too close, and now someone was going to pay for my actions.

I ran past Jem and Will and into the Institute, up to my room and slamming the door like a child. I needed to leave. Not for long, necessarily – I just needed to leave this place and forget. I had to go on a hunt.

Alone.

I grabbed a pack and stuffed in a water bottle and some food, filling the small bag with weapons and my _stele. _I didn't speak to anyone as I changed into my gear and scrawled a note, placing it on my nightstand in hopes someone would see it, and they wouldn't worry.

_I've gone out. _

I tied up my hair and pinned it at the nape of my neck, putting on a hat and stealing a tunic from Will to disguise my gender.

_I'll be around Downworld if you need me._

I planned to go to a tavern or three, maybe hunt a demon or so to take my mind off of everything. Demons are the reason I'm like this, anyway. Yanluo is the reason that I can't be around Jem.

_Be back by tomorrow morning, Wednesday at the latest. _

I crept quietly out of the Institute an hour after we arrived, making sure to avoid Jem and Will. I don't want a confrontation with Jem, who would surely try to talk sense into me, or Will, who would insist on coming with me.

_Don't worry, I'll be fine._

I added in that line for Charlotte, even as I knew she probably would worry. I rolled my eyes. I'm seventeen, practically an adult. I could handle myself.

I walked out the door and let the heavy doors swing shut as I listened to the satisfying thump of the wood. Letting the afternoon sun shine on my face, I saddled up Sleipnir and rode away from the Institute with a clip-clop of hooves.

_Love, Lissa._

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**There was a reason I was a bit afraid to upload this chapter. I wasn't sure if Lissa was being a Mary-Sue, so I made her go do something really stupid. (this is how my head works)**

**I have a question for you guys: do you want this story to continue? I've been feeling rather uninspired... so I could try to update sporadically, or just discontinue LLC altogether. I don't want to give up on it though... please review and inspire me :)**

**Seriously, love you guys :) review if you liked it, if you want LLC to continue, if you don't, or if you had a cookie for lunch. Have a cookie now (::)**

**Til next time,**

**Ivy**

**(who changed her username and is now The Girl With The Words)**


	15. The Plot Thickens

**Why hello, dear readers! LLC is still alive and will be so for a long time, I promise it. It may take me years, or even bloody decades (hope not thought ;p) but this story will be finished even if only one person is reading it! **

**Thank you so very much for the generous reviews on the last chapter, I can only dream of living up to your expectations of how this story will go. So *mails buckets of love* please take all my gratitude and love and go right ahead and read!**

* * *

_London, 1878 _

_Perspective: Lissiane P. Morgenstern_

The Blue Tavern was an awful, smelly place, loud and bustling with men who stank of alcohol and women draped across them.

And then there was me: a seventeen year old girl dressed like a young man, who was laughing along with everyone else without a care in the world. My senses were dulled just enough by the drinks for everything to seem happy, light and innocent and forgetful.

I'd been kissing a pretty werewolf girl, embracing her roughly as our lips locked with harsh passion. Every pore in my body longed for Jem, and if I closed my eyes for just a moment, taking in the girl's sweet scent and muscular build, I could pretend that the lips weren't hers, but Jem's, soft and gentle on mine…

It was near midnight when Blue's crowd was beginning to thin, and my werewolf was sleepy. I picked her up as she curled in my arms, murmuring the name I'd been using that night, "Liam…"

I hushed her and put a finger to her lips, taking her out and finding a carriage. "Shhh," I whispered in a low voice.

She put her head on my shoulder, a small smile flitting across the werewolf's lips. "I'm tired," she yawned as I let her down gently in the carriage. The driver recognised the girl, so I hope he knew where she lived.

"Sleep," I replied gently. "Good night, love."

"Good night," she said with complete trust and conviction, and I feel a pang in my stomach. I'd been taking advantage of this girl who is so sweet and wholly good… "I hope to see you again…."

The girl closed the door to the carriage with a soft thud and with a rumble of wheels against asphalt, the carriage drove away.

I sighed, finding my way back to Sleipnir. It was almost morning, and I had no desire to return the Institute… I needed to go somewhere. Maybe I would stay out for a few more days.

I stuck my hand inside the pocket of my gear, coming in contact with something hard and rectangular. I frowned, pulling out the object, which turned out to be a faded business card.

_Magnus Bane, warlock extraordinaire, _it read in curly golden script. The card was covered in glitter, and it takes me a few moments to remember where I got it.

"Throw it in the Thames if you ever want to entertain me," I remembered Magnus had said. A slow smile spreading over my face, I put the card back in my pocket and climbed on Sleipnir. It was a stupid idea, but I needed _something _to do if I was going to find my way to Idris.

The Morgenstern manor was in Germany, but I knew my brother. He wanted a position of power, so he would obviously be in Idris, charming his way through officials and making friends with the Consul. I, with the looks of my mother on the Silverglass side, would hardly even be recognised, just remembered as that Morgenstern girl shipped off to London years ago.

It would be a perfectly fine course of action to entertain a warlock who would, as a favour, bring me to Idris. Absolutely. It was _perfect! _

I squeezed Sleipnir tight, sending him off as we shot across London. Cobblestone streets flew by, my horse's hooves barely making contact with the ground. I laughed in exhilaration, whooping and hollering with no shame. A few windows opened as responsible town folk hushed me, but I didn't care. I was finally _free. _

And I'd almost ridden my horse smack dab into the Thames. Damn. I pulled back hard on Sleipnir's reigns, making sure to keep on steadying hand on him as I fished the business card out of my pocket. Taking a deep breath, I flung it into the murky water… and waited.

For a moment, nothing happened, and my heart sank. Was I really so gullible to believe in a magic business card? That desperate?

And then something happened.

The murky river water began to froth, churning around in a circle as a faint purple light, and my heart rose. I dismounted gracefully, holding my breath as the water frothed around and around, the purple becoming more prominent as it stood out from the grey. I hardly had a chance to think _why purple? _when an enourmous column of water shot out from the river and into the sky.

That was when the skies fell.

The downpour was intense, so much so that I was drenched in seconds, my soggy hands slipping away from the reigns of my horse. _"Sleipnir!" _I screamed, flinging water away from my eyes as it thundered down on my forehead, running down my face. "_Sleipnir!"_

I heard a whinny from somewhere – too far away for my liking – and took a step towards it. My boot scraped off a chunk of mud, which landed with a splat in a body of water that was either a very large puddle or the Thames. Did I really think this was a good idea? If I opened my eyes, I couldn't see. The rain was coming down in sheets. If I closed my eyes, well, then I obviously couldn't see. Damn warlocks.

I screamed again, not sure if any words were coming out. Water quickly filled my mouth, and I spat it on the ground. Was it possible to drown in a rainstorm?

No sooner had I thought the words than did I feel a sharp tug in my stomach. I yelled something I couldn't remember – probably profanity, if I'm being honest – and was promptly flipped upside down. Landing with a thud on soft carpet, I tucked a soggy strand of hair behind my ear and turned towards the warmth of a fire.

Wait, back up. Carpet? Fire? Where was I? And where did the rain go?

"Ah. Miss Morgenstern," a smooth voice greeted me once I sat up, sputtering. "There's a blanket by the door, no need to ruin my carpet."

"…Magnus?" I choked, trying my hardest to sound angry. It didn't work, and I snatched a towel and blanket from right where the warlock said they would be. It was a lot easier to channel my anger when I was dried off, and I stood up and put my hands on my hips. "Magnus Bane, what the _hell _was that?" He looked rather amused, and I glowered at him. "And why… purple glitter?"

He was very glittery today, wearing a deep blue top and a silky, _sparkly, _purple vest embedded with rhinestones. His pants matched the vest, and it was all I could do not to groan.

"You've obviously come here for a reason," Magnus replied, not answering either of my questions, "otherwise you wouldn't have used the business card. Sketchy magic, those things."

"You _gave _me the business card!" I sputtered, strands of hair falling into my eyes as I shook my head vigorously.

"Years ago," Magnus replied nonchalantly. "They were a work in progress." He fished something out of the pocket of his vest – vests have pockets? – and gave it to me. "This one's much better."

_Magnus Bane, warlock extraordinaire. _

"No, no, _no," _I said when I saw the words on the card, dangling it by two fingers. "No thank you, absolutely not, I _do not _want to get rained buckets on just so I can see you!"

"The fireplace," Magnus said softly. "You put it in the fireplace and it'll take you to Idris."

This stopped me. "Idris?"

"That is where you're going, right?"

I nodded suspiciously, sending Magnus a sideways glance. "How did you know that? I never told you."

"I'm a warlock," he replied with a little grin. "It's my job to know things. Also, I was bored."

I figured that I didn't _want _to know the rest of that explanation, so I just held up my hand to stop him. "That's more than enough," I told him sternly, fingering one of Magnus's business cards for the second time today. "I just put it in the fireplace and go?"

"Simply put, yes," Magnus replied. "If you want to know the magicks of it –"

"No, I don't –"

"You'd have to ask my business partner anyway." He shrugged. "I have no idea."

I rolled my eyes and turned to the fire, which looked just like, well, a normal fireplace. Building up my courage and remembering that the reason I needed to stay away from Jem was to protect him, I moved to toss the card.

Then stopped.

"You know why I'm doing this, right?"

Magnus shook his head. "No idea," he admitted bluntly, staring me straight in the eyes. "But I've run from people before, things I shouldn't have done, and so I won't question you." He sighed heavily. "But I will warn you that leaving those who love you will be the greatest mistake of your life."

We locked eyes for a moment, Nephilim and warlock in an instant of understanding, Magnus's catlike eyes whispering _go back _in the deepest recesses of my mind.

I flung the card into the fire without a second thought.

* * *

_The London Institute, 1878_

_Perspective: third person omniscient_

James Carstairs was furious. Terrified and heartbroken and shocked – and _furious. _Furious at himself, for not being strong enough for Lissa to stay. Furious at Will, for not dragging her back kicking and screaming, just to keep her safe. Furious at everyone in the Institute for letting Lissiane Patricia Morgenstern slip out of their lives and into Downworld, consorting with those who would just as easily kill her as they would sit down and have a drink.

Damn this existence, this cursed place, damn it all.

"Will!" Jem's fist was clenched around Lissa's note, her quaint handwriting crumpled along with the paper. "WILL!"

There was a clatter on the stairs as his _parabatai _came running. "What, James?" Will asked as he entered Lissa's room. He looked around a bit, then frowned as he came to a realisation. "Where's Lissa?"

Jem thrust the note into Will's face, his anger subsiding as quickly as it came. It was replaced with worry and fear and concern – "I don't know. Downworld."

Will's eyes scanned the note quickly, its shocking few sentences ready to destroy the Institute by pulling out a stone from the foundation. "She'll be back. Wednesday, see?" It was hard for Will to sound like he didn't care but managed it, as long as his eyes were glued to the note and avoiding Jem's face.

"This is Lissa we're talking about, Will," Jem admonished carefully, a strange note in his voice that Will couldn't quite place. He wasn't sure he liked it, either. "She's reckless. Impulsive. You know the symptoms."

Will had already opened his mouth to answer when they heard a whinny echo through the grounds like another thundercloud opening up over stormy waters. The boys rushed to the window just in time to see Sleipnir running up to the Institute, shaking his massive head wildly.

"Will."

"I know."

Even in the light of the rising sun it was easy to see that the horse was drenched, mane and tale dripping wet. Jem was only hoping it was water.

"She's not in Downworld, is she?"

* * *

An hour and a half later, a party of Shadowhunters – Will, Jem, Henry, Charlotte, even Jessie – accompanied by Tessa were at the door of Magnus Bane, warlock extraordinaire. The head of the Institute had been surprised to see Jem and Will at her door, and the situation had taken a while to explain what with the pair of them tripping over their words to tell her. Once the story had been set straight, it was very clear that Charlotte was not sure whether to be worried or furious.

Jem knew the feeling perfectly.

The door swung open and Magnus stood in the entryway, looking somewhere between delighted and terrified to see them. It was an odd expression, and there was a long pause before he cleared his throat and said, "Nephilim! Please, come in."

The conversation that ensued was no less awkward than the entire affair in the first place, but after pleasantries were exchanged, it was made clear that Lissa was in Idris. "Idris?" Jem asked intently, his voice low. "Why?"

"I have no idea," the warlock admitted sheepishly. "It'd be best to let her be, though, by the looks of things." He grew serious. "I know you think her leaving was a mistake, but going after her may be more dangerous than you may've thought."

Seeing Jem angry was a rarity, one that Will was pretty sure he'd been spared entirely. Now he saw his _parabatai's _fury in full, Jem's silver eyes flashing and a fist clenching to his side. "We're her _friends," _Jem spat at Magnus. "If she's gone to visit her brother –" Jem remembered Lissa saying he lived in Idris, "- that won't do any good either. We _care. _Do not think about suggesting that we leave her alone in a city filled with strangers, warlock." The fact that Jem had called Magnus 'warlock' was the true indicator of his anger; Jem was _always _polite, even when he was annoyed.

Will nudged Jem and met his eyes in concern, but Jem's silvery orbs were still ablaze. Magnus didn't seem to mind, much, and nodded. "I can take you to Idris."

This had Jem's attention instantly. "All of us?"

Magnus's gaze flicked over the group, and he bit his lip. "Excluding myself, I can take three," he replied evenly, his words directed towards Charlotte. "I take it the boys will be coming, and….?"

"I will," Charlotte spoke up with a concerned glance towards Jem. She straightened, righting her posture and clearing her throat. "I am the head of the Institute, this is my responsibility." She looked towards her husband. "Henry, if you will please take Tessa and Jessamine back, it is still early morning and there is much to be done. They may entertain themselves in whatever manner they please."

Tessa looked rueful at the loss of an adventure, but Jessamine was picking her fingernails in a bored manner. Henry nodded, giving Charlotte a quick kiss on the cheek. "Of course. I'll be in the lab if they need me."

A worried expression flickered over Charlotte's face, but she nodded and kissed Henry back gently. "Good. We'll be back shortly."

Their party of three left and soon it was just Charlotte, Jem, Will, and Magnus left in the dimly lit room. "I suppose there's no need for overdramatics?" Magnus asked with a raised eyebrow. He was met by stern glances, and sighed. Nonetheless, the lights dimmed, the warlock raised his arms, and they were off.

They arrived in front of a manor, where the first three things that Nephilim and warlock were able to take in were a scream, a vanishing demon, and Lissiane Patricia Morgenstern's broken body crumpling to the ground.

* * *

**Well. Stupid things Lissa Morgenstern style are really escalating. Not much to say here except for that I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please write me a review and tell me what you think :P It'd make my day. **

**(and make me update faster *winks*)**

**Welp, till next time!**

**-Ivy**


	16. Morgenstern and Silverglass

**So I'm probably going to start the rest of the updates until completion with this phrase, but here it is: I'M SO SORRY. I SWEAR I'M NOT DEAD. THIS STORY'S STILL COMING. **

***cough* I'm a bit proud of this chapter, if I must say so my self. Hope you enjoy, my lovely readers! :)**

**And I hope you had a nice day. Because feels will ruin it in about five minutes.**

* * *

_Idris, 1878_

_Perspective: third person omniscient_

A thin trembling hand reached out tentatively, hesitating, before knocking three times on a grand wooden door. The hand's owner took a deep breath to calm herself and smoothed down her unusual clothing: a tunic and men's pants. Her dark hair was tied in a braid, and she fidgeted as she waited.

The door swung open smoothly, and a tall, well-groomed man towered over her as she, stoic yet twiglike, stood her ground. It had been four years since she'd seen him. The girl had nearly become an adult, and the boy had grown powerful. They were siblings, and yet looked nothing alike. The man's white blonde hair contrasted her black locks with a vengeance. For a moment no one spoke, letting silence stretch like taffy between them.

"Miss Silverglass." It was the man who spoke first, in silky smooth and practised tones that betrayed no surprise. The girl's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Excuse me?" she hissed at him, putting her hands on her hips.

He blinked. "You are excused." A smirk played at his lips, watching and waiting for her temper to flare.

It did not. "Let me in, Joshua. I need to speak with you."

Joshua gestured her in the same way he would a stranger seeking solace from a bad storm. "Come, then. We can sit, talk, and swap tales of how we have been without each other."

She slapped him in the wide entryway. "I can't _believe_ you!"

Joshua recoiled, hurt and clutching his stinging cheek. "Lis, I –"

"Don't _'Lis' _me," she snapped, glaring at him with a fire in her eyes. "You exile me from my own home, _never _contact me – not a single letter! Not one! You could've been dead, for all I know! – while you get _rich _in Idris, probably bribing people to do your dirty work as you try to _remove me from this family!" _Joshua seemed to be at a loss for words. "And why? So you can take whatever inheritance I've been given?" He winced. "You _did!" _

"That's not why –"

"That's not why _what? _Were you broke? On the streets? Desperate? Did you need the money _so badly _that you couldn't spare the pennies to send me a letter before you did anything?"

Joshua looked down. "It was an investment."

"A _what?" _Lissa shrieked in anger, taking a step closer to him. _"How? _What exactly have you done, Joshua?"

"Legally," he replied, back in his element, "you are a Silverglass. Our father split the inheritance equally. He pooled our mother's and his own money and left us each roughly half, enough for the both of us to live comfortably for the rest of our lives." He shifted. "I am a businessman. It was complicated; you wouldn't understand –"

"_Try me," _Lissa spat furiously.

Her brother was unable to meet her eyes. "It is a matter of no importance now anyway, but in short I…." He weighed his words. "As a Morgenstern, our father had a great deal more of a fortune than Mother. From the total, perhaps seventy percent was the Morgenstern inheritance and thirty from the Silverglass side." Horror dawned in Lissa's eyes as she understood his words. "Now that I am the only legal Morgenstern descendent…." Joshua looked down at his feet. "The gains far outweighed the loss."

Something inside Lissiane Morgenstern – Silverglass, now – cracked and she stared at her brother in disbelief. She shook her head, trying to muster up something to say, something to scream at him, something to release everything she'd felt stirring in her like a tornado in a glass bottle.

"Who are you?" she whispered, a terrible cloud of betrayal and torn trust settling over her like fog. _"What _are you?" Then, even quieter: "What am I?"

Joshua finally looked up, grief painted across his features. "I was young, and I was so _stupid," _he mumbled, even as he knew that this wasn't going to fix it. He'd stolen so much more than just twenty percent of her inheritance; he'd taken Lissa's _identity, _and that could never be forgiven. "And I'm _sorry." _

But sorry didn't cut it. It never would. Lissa stood, unmoving, as she heard the words but couldn't listen to them, unable to register what he was saying. She had come here for refuge; the promise of her brother, albeit small, was the only thing that kept her going. If she could live here, she could keep everyone else she cared about safe.

In the blink of an eye, that had all been stolen from her.

"_I hate you," _she whispered, the words stinging Joshua far more than if she had screamed them at him. Wiping an unbidden tear from her eye, Lissa fled, running down the long entrance hall and out the door, into Idris.

Now it was Joshua's turn to be shocked: he didn't expect Lissa to simply _leave, _without giving him a chance. More than a minute had passed before he broke out of his shell and yelled her name. "LISSA!"

It rang through the hall, powerful and yet completely useless.

Pushing open the doors, Joshua squinted against the blinding light and tried fruitlessly to find his sister – to do what, he didn't know, but he had to find her. "LISSA!"

Her voice was distant when she answered, but he heard it loud and clear, all the way down to the growl in her words. "GO _AWAY! _I DON'T _NEED YOU!" _

Joshua ignored it. He'd been so wrong all this time, he had to start doing something right. And if it had to begin now, so be it. His shoes clattered down the polished steps of his enormous home as he followed the direction Lissa's voice had been coming from. "PLEASE!" He hadn't expected to say that – after all, Joshua Morgenstern _never _begged – but it felt appropriate.

She was closer now, he knew – but from the way her voice seemed to be travelling, Joshua realised with a start that she was running. Running from _him. _

"JOSHUA, _GO!" _Lissa yelled angrily from wherever she was. "YOU'RE NOT FAMILY ANYMORE!"

He knew it was true, but even so he continued towards her voice. If only he could find Lissa, make her forgive him – then maybe his mistakes would be neutralized. Then maybe he could wear his Morgenstern name in pride again.

Lissa was too far away to care now. The further she could run from him, the more distance she could put between herself and her problems. If she could simply run away from her curse, she wouldn't be here in the first place. Lissa gritted her teeth in frustration. _Wishful thinking. _

As if summoned by a force more powerful than herself, the memory rose in her mind.

_She was playing on the lawn of the Morgenstern mansion during the family's holiday to Germany, and Joshua, who had already deemed himself 'too good' to play such childish games, watched from the steps. _

"_Come play!" the young girl called in Lissa's memory, waving to her brother. "It'll be fun!" Then, in playful German, she added, "Bitte?" Please?"_

"_I could get hurt," Joshua replied primly, inspecting his nails. "Would you want that to happen?" And that was before she'd been cursed; Joshua was only ever concerned about himself. _

"_Oh, Josh, nothing will happen!" Lissa had cried gaily, dragging her brother onto the lawn. "You have not played with me in ages!"_

"_I am busy." _Even now, as she avoided him, Lissa could hear the voice of her brother from that moment, proper as always.

"_Just a moment," Lissa begged, looking up into her brother's dark eyes. It was the only thing they had in common, what with Joshua's white-blonde hair and Lissa's being practically raven. "Please?"_

"_Mother is giving me German lessons in a half hour –" their mother, Amalia Morgenstern, thought it important that her children speak the language._

"_You hate German!" Lissa protested, nudging her brother. Joshua laughed and finally obliged, tapping Lissa on the shoulder and running away._

"_You can't catch me!" _

Lissa felt tears come to her eyes and turned the corner, entering a narrow alleyway. She had no idea where she was, and did not care.

_Lissa abruptly stopped laughing when she realised she was too far in the woods to see the manor in the distance. "Joshua?" she called, afraid. "Joshua?"_

_There was no answer. _

"Josh?"

_Finally there was a rustling in the trees and someone answered her call. Relieved, Lissa ran towards them, expecting her brother. "Josh!"_

_The words died on her lips when she saw the hulking black form of a demon. Yanluo, she would later learn, but that was not important now. Her eyes widening, Lissa simultaneously pulled a small assortment of weapons – yet still large for a ten year old – out of her belt and tried to back away. _

_It was too late. She was not quiet enough, and had already alerted the demon to her presence. It made an odd rumbling noise – laughter, it seemed. It was laughing as it turned, the awful sound of rocks grating against each other. _

"Begone, fiend," _she said in the demon language, though her voice shook. _

_Now the laughter was like an avalanche, and Lissa was afraid. "Begone?" it asked in amusement. "I should think not. I rather enjoy this place." _

_Lissa's trembling hand held out the dagger covered in runes. "In the name of Raziel, the great Angel, I banish you."_

_The stones of Yanluo's laughter covered Lissa in her terror. "I am terrified," it said dryly, extending a midnight black claw. Before the ebony knife could touch her skin, there was a great crack in the sky, filling it with a white light that spread to the horizons and disappeared. Lissa, too, glowed for a moment, and gasped. _

_Yanluo's face twisted, red eyes burning with a terrible hatred. "An angel's blessing, I see," it mused to himself, his chuckle becoming more sinister, if that was possible. "Then it is a demon's duty to give you a curse, if I cannot simply kill you." _

_Lissa shrank back, pressing up against a tree. _I will not beg. I will not beg. _"I will not allow it –"_

"_HA!" The sound was like a lightning strike running through the tree she leant on. "If I cannot kill you, and I cannot hurt you, I will simply hurt everyone around you."_

"_My brother –" she blurted before she could think._

_Nearly nonexistent lips curled into a smile. "I give you this, my dear Nephilim," Yanluo replied. "The moment anyone around you is hurt, you will know. Their pain will be yours." It paused. "And you are worried of hurting those near you," it continued to itself. "So the moment that you are injured, those who care about you will feel it. The greater your intensity of your… _love…_" It said the word like a curse. "The greater your pain will be." It snorted. "That should teach you not to call on angels." Yanluo's eyes bored into the young girl. "But as it is…. I have been banished." The demon looked pleased as it vanished, leaving an acrid stench in the air._

_Lissa ran through the trees and found her way home, tears and branches stinging her eyes and face. _

She had been so caught up in the memory that Lissa did not see what was in front of her now. A demon, large and blue and ugly, with odd bulges and dips marring its back. Its pincers immediately told her it was a Shax. Not the demon of her memory, but a demon enough.

Lissa cursed, and strained her neck to see if there was an exit to the alleyway. There was. She could spot the bright glow of witchlight streetlamps, and took a bit of comfort. _This won't be a problem, _she thought, if only to comfort herself, _I've taken on far larger beasts. _

"_LISSA!" _The demon whirled its head around at Joshua's shout, and Lissa groaned. As if it did not even see her there, the Shax turned and barreled down the alleyway. Oh, by the Angel. It was following the Morgenstern scent, leading straight back to Joshua.

Lissa sighed, but despite herself, ran after it with her seraph blade raised high. _"Lailah!" _she whispered as it began to burn in her palm.

As it turned out, she was right. The Shax _was _pursuing Joshua, and Lissa was winded by the time she found him.

The Shax had found him first, and Joshua was teasing it, as if for show. There was a bored, resigned look on his face, and Lissa realised with a jolt that he simply did not care whether he killed it or it killed him.

At the same time, Lissa realised that she cared. No matter how awful of a brother he had been, they were family.

"HEY, UGLY!" she screamed in a demon tongue, and both the Shax and Joshua started. As Lissa charged, her brother stared in awe, as if not quite sure that she was real. Her eyes burning with an unmatched fury, Lissa's attacks came hard and swift. Unlike most other Shax she had fought, this one refused to back down.

Lissa shoved her brother out of the way to deliver the killing blow, and the Shax wailed in agony, a scream bubbling up in its throat and piercing the air the way her knife penetrated its skin. Even as it died, she had made it angry.

In a final attempt of retaliation, the demon swung a claw at Joshua, ready to rake its claws down his side. For a moment, Lissa's eyes seemed to glow with the light of the afternoon, and with an almost inhuman cry, she heaved Joshua to the ground, ensuring his safety.

And she screamed again as the demon's final attack clawed down her side and back, tearing open skin marked with the Angel's runes.

Lissa crumpled as her brother stood, unconscious before she hit the ground.

Joshua didn't see the group of Shadowhunters and a warlock until one with black hair and blue eyes punched him in the face.

The boy with silver hair was at Lissa's side before her brother was.

No one heard him whispering, "Lissa, _měilì de_, _qǐng bùyào zǒu._ _Wǒ ài nǐ." _There was a catch in his voice. _"Please."_

* * *

**Told you so. :) **

**Well, that's all! Cause it's an ungodly hour of the night, and I need sleep. You know what button you want to press... yep, the review one.**

**Til next time!**

**-Ivy**


	17. The Aftermath

**My dear readers, let me tell you a story.**

**Once upon a time, way back when, I began this fanfiction. It was almost a year ago, and I thought that it would take me about 20-40 chapters. If I uploaded once a week, it would take about 5 to 8 months. I'm on chapter 17 and nowhere near finished. **

**This story truly took off, and I have all my amazing readers to thank for it. By chapter six, I had ten reviews. By chapter 12, I had fifty. At chapter 17, I have over one hundred. This is every author's dream, and I love you guys.**

**This chapter is 100% dedicated to YOU, because you're all fantastic. I hope you have a wonderful day. :) **

**(Also, look at this, I'm not uploading in the dead of night, hurray!)**

* * *

_Idris, 1878_

_Perspective: third person omniscient _

Lissa had been asleep for two and a half days after Magnus healed her. The warlock's face had been impassive, completely unemotional as blue light sparked from his fingertips and wrapped itself around Lissa's side. He had looked at the teen's limp body and feeling seemed to spark in Magnus's eyes. "It'll be a while before she wakes up," he said bluntly, nodding. Those cat's eyes of his swept over the group, scrutinizing each Nephilim before landing on Joshua.

The elder Morgenstern had squirmed. He clearly did not share Lissa's view on Downworlders. "If you would –" Joshua had begun, his voice only trembling slightly.

"You're a total jerk," Magnus cut him off flatly. "I don't know why she puts up with you." He blinked once, slowly, yellow-green orbs never leaving Joshua's face. "You wouldn't happen to have some tea, would you? Most times I charge so much more than this for my services." Magnus inspected his turquoise fingernails and tugged on the sheer purple vest he was wearing. Joshua gaped. "Close your mouth, Morgenstern, you're not a fish."

Jem wasted no time gently scooping Lissa off the ground and collecting her in his arms with such a possessiveness that no one bothered to argue. The look he gave Joshua was poison, and the polite silver-haired boy did not so much as greet Lissa's brother when he stalked past the head of the Morgenstern house. Will's brow furrowed, and he hurried to catch up with his _parabatai. _

Charlotte sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Mister Morgenstern," she said firmly, with the resolute sternness of an army general, "as the head of the London Institute, I require that you let us –"

"Whatever you like," Joshua replied tiredly, waving a hand in dismissal. "I don't care. Join the circus if you like."

Charlotte looked the boy over – for that's what he was, truly, a boy. For a moment she sympathised with him, trying to walk in shoes that he could not yet fill. Standing taller, she brought herself back to the task at hand. "Thank you," Charlotte replied formally, turning to go. "Magnus? I'm sure there will be tea inside."

"Scones would be nice, your mother liked them," Magnus replied absently, nodding to Joshua. "Kept calling for them during the Accords meeting. Halfway decent woman. Didn't throw away the plates we touched, anyway." He frowned at his nails. "I went to her funeral."

Joshua's face tightened. "Inside, warlock," he snapped coldly. "Before I change my mind." This time it was Magnus who gave Joshua that scrutinizing look he was so used to. Every business meeting was started with a chuckle. "Oh, I thought you were older," they said. By the end his age did not matter. They knew that Joshua Morgenstern was a force to be reckoned with. And by the Angel, this warlock would know it too, no matter what it took.

Magnus simply shrugged. "Okay." He paused for a moment; tilted his head. "Where's the tea?" Joshua didn't answer, and Charlotte sent Magnus a reproving look before tugging him along.

"He needs to be alone," Charlotte murmured, and Joshua did not bother to correct her. He watched them go, walking side by side up to his house, his manor. He had worked so hard for all this without taking a single moment to dwell on the past.

Lissa had changed all that simply by coming here. Despite the fact that Joshua had done nothing but antagonize her, harm her, and destroy her, Lissa had still cared enough to come back. She had cared enough to put herself in the way of a demon for his sake.

For the sake of a brother who did not care.

Joshua felt light-headed, and he sat down on the grass. It was wet. Joshua's fingers skimmed the leaves' slick surface and came off with a film of red. _That was her blood. _

The thought hit him like a freight train, that his baby sister might be dying while he sat here doing nothing. And if she died, it would be his fault.

Bile rose in Joshua's throat and he retched weakly, unable to help himself. Wiping his hand furiously on the ground to clean his fingers, but it seemed the more that he tried to erase it, the redder it became. Joshua hadn't realised when he started crying but he was sobbing now, most likely a complete mess.

"_I'm sorry!" _he tried to scream, but wasn't sure if he said the words at all. "I'm so sorry, Lis, I'm so sorry."

It was an hour and a half before Charlotte found him that way, mumbling to himself – "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It was another hour before he let her help him.

* * *

Jem was quiet as he sat next to Lissa's bed, staring absently at the tapestry that adorned the wall. Will shuffled in, quietly and sat next to his _parabatai. _"Any change?"

"No."

"Trust Magnus," Will said hollowly, trying for words of encouragement. "He knows what he's doing."

"Mhm."

Will sighed, sweeping his black hair out of his face. "Jem…" There was no reply, and Will turned to face the silver-haired boy. "James."

"What, William?"

Will faltered; he wasn't really sure what he wanted to say in the first place. Clearly Lissa's state wasn't helping anyone, so Will turned his attention to the wall. "Interesting tapestry, isn't it?"

Jem's eyes flicked up to the intricately woven cloth hanging in front of him and frowned slightly. "It's… different, that's for sure."

The tapestry in question was a deep midnight blue and portrayed at least twenty five angels radiating light. The curve of the Earth was portrayed on the bottom, a rising sun coming up behind it. Each angel was staring down at the planet with an odd expression on their face – something between pride and sorrow for the Nephilim continuing on with their work below. Each angel had a banner with its name and a title of sorts, which Will was reading off one at a time.

"Eremiel, the Protector," he made out from his seat, "Dumah the Queer, Raqeeb the Faithful, Lisianel the Meddler –"

"What was that last one?" Jem asked suddenly, his curiosity piqued.

Will got up and tapped a tall, dark-skinned male angel. "Lisianel the Meddler," he repeated, frowning, his gaze flickering to the sleeping Lissa and back to the angel. "Missing an 's,' and he's a guy."

Jem stood now, inspecting the depicted Lisianel on the tapestry. "Almost looks a bit like her, doesn't he?" Jem asked curiously, with a slightly interested frown.

Will shrugged. "What, our Lis, looking like an angel?" he scoffed, making light of it, before comparing the two in his mind. "Actually…"

Jem smiled, a bit, a real smile. Will smirked in return, just glad that Jem wasn't dwelling too hard on what had happened.

"Nah," Will said suddenly, shaking his head. "I think Lissa's too ugly to look like an angel." He grinned mischievously, and Jem gaped.

"Will!"

Will laughed, and for a moment everything was as it should be. Charlotte's voice called up to them from the stairwell, "Boys?"

"Yes, Charlotte?" they replied in near perfect sync, something that they and Lissa had perfected over the years.

"Can you come down, please?" Charlotte asked, somehow seeming that she hadn't raised her voice at all and yet it was perfectly understood. "The cook's made dinner, it'll be cold if you don't come eat it."

"Bloody Morgenstern's probably trying to poison us," Will snarled, his tone containing a savage anger that Jem hadn't heard in a while.

"_William," _Charlotte said sharply. "Come downstairs. You too, James." Will and Jem exchanged looks: an incredulous eye roll on Will's part and a soft reprimand from Jem's.

"Coming," the boys said together, heading out the door and through the hallway. Jem took one final glance at Lissa's sleeping face before making his way down the spiral staircase and into the dining room.

* * *

"She's awake!" Magnus yelled the words from upstairs, causing Jem to stand as quickly as if he'd been shot from a canon, looking up with a dazzling smile on his face.

Everyone in the household reacted in the same manner, and a chorus of excited yells rang throughout the manor. "Really?" "Just now?" "Can we see her?"

"By the _Angel," _a familiar female voice complained, a bit sleepily. "Won't you all just shut up?"

Will and Jem needed no more preamble to practically run from the breakfast table, Charlotte not even bothering to scold them. The _parabatai _reached Lissa's room first where she stood with Magnus, her face nearly glowing at the sight of them. Charlotte was next, and behind her was Joshua, staring at the floor.

Lissa looked only slightly worse for the wear, a long scar beginning peeking out of her collar on her neck and disappearing into her shirt. She was cleaned up, her hair had been washed, and Lissa's skin was free of blood and grime. There was one thing different, though –

"Your hair!" Charlotte noticed it first, sounding shocked. "Lissa, what have you done to your hair?"

It was quite different, that was for sure. The Shax's claw had yanked out a good length of Lissa's black tresses, leaving her with ragged and uneven locks. Now, though, it was cut short, about the length of Will or Jem's, resting behind her ears and stopping at the nape of her neck.

"I think it looks nice," Jem spoke up, looking over Lissa's swept back bangs and small studded earrings.

Lissa smiled, her eyes meeting Jem's for a moment and she blushed. "Thanks."

"I think it looks ridiculous," Will proclaimed loudly, breaking the ice. "It makes your head look all funny." It didn't, actually, but Will had to say something insulting. Lissa punched him. "Ow!"

"You jerk," she replied haughtily, but she was smiling. "Why was I excited to see you again, anyway? All you do is underappreciate me."

"I show you where the high quality brothels are," Will offered with a smirk, and Lissa nodded thoughtfully.

"Ah. That."

Charlotte gave an overdramatic cough to stop the pair's bickering, probably afraid of what it would escalate to. Lissa noticed Charlotte and faltered, guilt filling her eyes, and she looked down. She was afraid of what might happen; of what Charlotte thought of her now.

"Lissa…" Charlotte's tone was kind, if a bit stern, but didn't get the girl to budge. "You gave us all quite a scare," she continued with a shaky laugh, "and we don't know why you did it, exactly, but…" Charlotte trailed off and embraced Lissa, who just bit her lip and tried her hardest not to cry.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte," Lissa said quietly, not sure if even Charlotte heard. "I'm sorry…"

Both women had tears in their eyes when they released each other and Lissa stepped back, sniffling, pretending that she was alright when she clearly wasn't.

Joshua's presence didn't make it any better.

The siblings stared at each other, two sides of the same coin. It was only the tilt of their eyes and the shape of their noses, the curve of those full, Morgenstern lips and slender long fingers that joined them in appearance. From afar they looked like sun and moon, night and day: complete and total opposites. The silence that passed between them was electric. Their gazes were charged with the thousands of sparked feelings that had passed between them over the years. Tension in the room was thick enough to be cut with a knife; no one spoke.

"You abandoned me," Lissa said quietly, daring him to disagree. Joshua's eyes were trained on the floor in shame.

"I did."

"You threw me out of my own house," she pressed on, an edge coming into her voice. Lissa _wanted _Joshua to realise how much he'd hurt her. He had broken her trust when she was thirteen, innocent, and young.

"I did."

"You took my name from me without my knowledge or my agreement," Lissa continued, louder this time. All eyes were riveted on the pair of them, somewhere between fear, disgust, and awe.

Joshua winced at this accusation, because it was true. "I did." Finally, he looked up at her, Joshua's brown eyes meeting Lissa's green ones. "Lis, I'm _sorry." _

Lissa shook her head sharply. "No," she said quietly, with a steely undertone to her voice. "No, Josh, you weren't sorry when you did it and you're only sorry because I'm in front of you right now." She laughed shortly, a sound with no warmth and no humour. "Don't tell me that you're sorry."

Charlotte gave them both a distraught stare, knowing that Lissa was too proud to understand and Joshua too arrogant to do this again. It would be their downfall, the both of them, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'd like to be alone," Lissa continued softly, her eyes meeting Jem's. Then she backtracked, saying, "I'd like to be with Jem." There was a slightly desperate note in her voice. "Please." A pause. "If that's alright."

Jem's breath caught in his throat. Alone with him. Of course it was alright.

"We'll leave," Charlotte replied gently, sending warning glances to the other members of their party. "There's more than enough work to be done around here." There wasn't, actually, but no one pointed that out and instead made up mumbled excuses before heading downstairs.

Joshua left last, sending one desperate look to Lissa – "Get out," she snapped – before turning and following the rest of them out of sight.

Finally – _finally – _it was just the two of them, standing in the hallway as pleasant sparks flew the way it always had. Lissa smiled, a bit, and opened up the door. "Sit down?" she offered, pulling up a chair, and Jem returned the grin.

"Yeah," he replied, his tone light and almost nervous. "Yeah, thanks."

They sat across from each other, Lissa on the corner of the bed and Jem on the chair that she'd pulled up for him. Lissa tapped her feet and stared down at the floor for a moment, then back up to meet Jem's silver orbs. "You're probably wondering why I ran," she said in a voice as hollow as a tin can.

Jem sighed gently, seeing how much this hurt her. "Lissa, _bǎobèi –" _Jem used the endearment without thinking, "– you don't have to tell me."

The quiet Chinese words seemed to soften Lissa, and she shook her head. "Jem, I didn't want to hurt you," she replied, taking a deep breath. Lissa was standing on the fulcrum between truth and lie, and which way she was going to tip was going to decide how she and Jem would see each other from then onward. Would he hate her? For lying to him, keeping the truth from him for so long?

She would hate herself for it, and Raziel knew that she did.

"You could never hurt me." Jem's steadfast answer was what made Lissa speak, finally, a dam flooding open.

"James, I'm cursed," Lissa blurted, plowing on before she could see the disgust on his face. "I was ten years old when it happened; I was in the forest and Yanluo was on his way to China, to you, and I was just a tiny obstacle of a child." Tears pricked at her eyes and Lissa realised how much this secret was weighing on her. "I can feel the pain of everyone around me, James, and when I'm hurt I project my pain onto you." Understanding dawned on Jem's face and Lissa looked down in shame. "And what with –" she waved her hand listlessly, "– your illness, I thought –"

"Lissa," Jem interrupted as she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I thought it would be better if I just left, so that no one – so that I couldn't –"

"Lissa, I understand."

She looked up in surprise. "What?"

"It's okay," Jem said patiently, causing a beautiful warmth to bloom in Lissa's chest. "I don't care." He reached out to take her hand, and Lissa curled her fingers around his palm. Jem came to sit next to her, making sure that Lissa saw him – truly saw him – not breaking eye contact once. "I'm here, Lissa," he promised, "I'm right here."

Neither of them were sure who leaned in first, but within seconds their lips connected in a quietly passionate kiss.

* * *

**Jissa levels escalating. Morgenstern sibling tension levels escalating. Actual canon plot levels decreasing.**

**Oops. :p**

**That's okay, I guess, because we'll be right back onto the plot. Lissa herself is really going to grow as a character, and I'm quite excited. And then, of course, there will be lots of fun plot with Mortmain and Wessa and morally gray areas and _squee!_**

**Also - fun fact! There is now an author-sanctioned _Love Like Clockwork _playlist! If you'd like me to send you the songs, mention it in a review or shoot me a PM. Speaking of reviews... get to it! **

**Til next time,**

**-Ivy**


	18. ANNOUNCEMENT

It has come to my attention that Lissa is a complete and total Mary-Sue.

I was rather immature when I began writing this story, way back when in 2014, and have created a character that doesn't reflect my current writing skills. Some of the prose from the original story makes my eyes water, and I loathe it. Because of this, I would like to announce that I am re-writing LLC.

I will be using Lissa's middle name (she will henceforth be called "Patricia") and turn my badly-outlined story into something I can be proud of. This story will be long, and I want it to be enjoyable for my readers.

I am also looking for a beta reader. If you are interested, please PM me. The new first chapter will be up shortly, and I will slowly replace the older content with the updated story.

Thank you all for sticking with me for so long, and I do hope that you will continue to read the story of this impudent, stubborn, and hopefully lovable Morgenstern. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Many thanks,

Ivy Matilda Blue.


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